Escape
by Mirrordance
Summary: Concluded! Estel is lost during a tour with the Rangers and Legolas later finds him, without his memories & happily relieved of all his noble burdens, making the elf hesitate to bring him back to who he was.
1. Chapter 1

Author: Mirrordance

Title: Escape

Summary: Estel is lost during a tour with the Rangers, and Legolas later finds him in Bree, without his memories & happily relieved of all his noble burdens, making the elf hesitate to bring him back to who he truly was.

* * *

PART 1

* * *

_Road to Rivendell_

_3013_

* * *

_      The years went by strangely quickly now, as if they moved too fast and away from his control, like water slipping from the gaps between his fingers, rejoining the stirring shallows below.  He noticed this along a road heading towards Rivendell, watching a waterfall he passed.  It was a strange feeling to think that time was no longer enough… It's been awhile since he felt this way._

_      When he was younger, he used to think he always had time to spare.  _Ada_ had said he lived as if he had tens of lifetimes, bold and occasionally reckless.  The future would come and he would inevitably get there no matter the stupidity he did now, he reasoned.  _

_      And then he lived a few more years and knew more of life and therefore knew more and more to dislike of it.  _Ada_ still says what he always used to say, though Legolas has changed his reasoning somewhat; if he got killed along the way, then possibly all the better, possibly worse.  Either way, the only future he could foresee was one wherein he would grow to be thousands of years old, probably alone, maybe not, probably miserable, likely bored, or maybe and finally just dulled and quieted because he had long since exhausted his passions from this infinity of an existence…_

_      "You are so deep in thought."_

_      Legolas smiled, looking sidelong at his riding companion, the dark-featured human who had these eyes, the kind that bore through you, these cursed, manipulative, penetrating eyes.  _

_      Legolas shook his head.  He was being silly, in this contemplative mood that jumped from one melancholy thought to another.  Though he himself was more than willing to let the thoughts go for now, Estel has already seen something that he found the need to address, and he would not be waylaid.  And one did not lie to Estel and say _It is nothing_ or some such thing because one simply could not, so Legolas therefore settled with the simple truths, as he often did with the perceptive human._

_      "I wish you're an elf, that you may understand me."_

_      The man looked amused, rather than offended.  He had long been comfortable with who and what he was, and detected more to the elf's thoughts than the ideas his occasionally thrifty words represented._

_      ~The days used to go by slowly,~ Legolas clarified, shifting languages to his native Elvish, ~And the years were nameless.  I've not counted them in so long.  It hardly matters to us, who have them as much as the richest trees have leaves.  I've begun counting again, because the days rush past me, as if they weren't mine to live.~_

_      ~It's because in a way,~ said Estel wistfully, ~they aren't.  I think you are counting my years, _mellon_, and not yours.~_

_      ~Don't flatter yourself,~ teased Legolas, though Estel easily recognized the particular dimming in his eyes, the quiet sadness that found expression every now and again, expertly concealed shortly thereafter to the unknowing eye.  But his eyes always knew Legolas--for one reason or another—and always understood him.  And as much as he understood the elf's sadness, he understood also that it had to be set aside, at least for now._

_      "I'll race you to the gate," Estel said in a breath, just as he tugged at the reins of his horse and ushered him forward._

_      "I'll beat you even if you cheated!" laughed Legolas, rising to the challenge as he always did with the perpetually clever and distracting human._

_      "I didn't cheat," Estel yelled over the pounding of horse hooves at his friend, who was riding a hair behind him, "I'm not an elf, remember? It's called evening out the field."_

_      "You're as good as we and you know it!" Legolas retorted._

_      "Ah, I got you to say it!" cried Estel triumphantly, laughing as he pushed his horse harder.  From behind him, the elf shook his head in amusement, and urged his own steed to go faster._

_      They stormed into the gates of Rivendell just as Lord Elrond, trailed by his twin sons Elrohir and Elladan, soared down the small flight of steps from the main hall to meet them, their robes rustling behind them in graceful waves that defied their seeming urgency._

_      ~What happened?~ Lord Elrond demanded at once, his healer's eyes raking over the two arrivals, searching for the injuries that often brought them with such a hurry as this to his door.   _

_      Legolas and Estel knew precisely what the reaction of the Lord of Imladris meant.  Over the course of the few years they have known each other, the pair of warriors has entered the confines of Rivendell on more than a few occasions bearing daunting 'souvenirs' of their adventures and misadventures.  But each looked at the other and blinked innocently._

_      ~Why nothing, Lord Elrond,~ Legolas replied, turning his 'unknowing' glance the older elf's way.  Lord Elrond raised an elaborately expressive eyebrow at him and smiled wryly._

_      Estel, with his laughter whole and jovial, hopped from his horse and embraced his adoptive father tightly.  "Really, _ada_, don't we ever just visit?"_

_      "You do just visit," Elrohir chuckled, "incidentally with a few cuts and bruises.  If we're all lucky that is."_

_      Legolas dismounted from his horse, and was welcomed by Elladan who gripped his arm and smiled at him.  _

_      "You ran your horses to the ground," Elladan commented, glancing at the mares, with their beady eyes curiously burning._

_      "I think they enjoy the competition as much as we," Legolas smiled, patting his horse's flank comfortingly, ~We won, didn't we?~  
      "You know you did not!" laughed Estel._

_      Elrond raised a hand up to referee.  "If I did not stop you this would go on 'til tomorrow.  And as the Lord of Imladris it is my duty to entertain you and usher you into my house, not to mention keep you from killing each other."_

_      They laughed heartily, though Estel stopped sooner than the others, his gaze arrested by the achingly familiar sight—nay, vision—of Arwen Undomiel.  He knew the very breath she arrived, from the very first rustle of the hem of her skirt as she stepped from the shadows of the inner hall and out into the sun.  She stood right atop the steps, glorious as she always was, her eyes proud.  She smiled at him warmly, and it lent a glow to her face, not to mention to his heart._

And to the day_, he added_, and to the night.  And to my life…

_      ~Estel wears his heart on his sleeve,~ grinned Elrohir, _knowing the very breath she arrived, from looking at his adopted brother's ridiculously lightning-stricken face.  

_      Lord Elrond, who knew the heartache that would eventually accompany the match no matter how strong the love or rich the passions, disapproved of it but could not find it in himself to part them, whom he both loved and wished to be happy.  He smiled politely, though it was obvious the human and the elven beauty could not have noticed anything else other than each other._

_      ~Welcome back,~ she said, taking the steps slowly.  Legolas watched, amused.  What was it about women? She knew she had him wrapped around her fingers, twined like the tightest of vines.  And she knew precisely how to make him wait.  She stepped at the landing, and offered him her hands, which he took as if she was offering him the world; gratefully and reverently._

_      This has been the way of things since they met some years ago, and she had sworn to be his, forsaking her multitude of years to share his mortal fate.  And then they parted, for Estel's road was long still, and could not end simply with her love yet, much as he may have desired it to be so._

_      ~Don't I get a welcome?~ Legolas teased, and she smiled at him graciously, releasing Estel's hands—_I'm going to have to pay for that later_, Legolas thought—and embraced him._

_      ~Are you still the white hairs of your father?~ she asked.  _

_      He laughed, ~It's not my fault he is getting old, Arwen.~_

_      ~She meant if you are still the bane of his existence, Legolas,~ said Elladan, chuckling as he looked at his younger sister dubiously, ~I suppose his answer says it all!~_

* * *

Rivendell

3014

* * *

      He had no such welcome, this time.

      Legolas looked upon Imladris, and for the first time in years, he looked at its beauty with a marked distaste.

      The first time he came to Imladris was centuries ago, a messenger for his father the King of Mirkwood.  A few centuries after that, unfortunate events have led to him entering it as a prisoner (1).  After he met Estel, the tornado-of-a-human turned his life upside down, and he grew to look upon Imladris as a safe haven. Now…

      _Now that Estel is gone_…

      He wondered what Imladris would be to him, this time.   Or what he was to its gracious people.  Once a stranger, once an enemy, once a friend.  Now…  

      _Now that Estel is gone_…

      Strange, how suddenly who he was, and the places he went to, were perennially marked by the infernal man's presence in some way.  How Estel's potent absence changed everything that there was, everything that _he_ himself was.

      _Mellon_, he thought sadly, _I miss you so.  Will you ever come back to us?_

      He stilled his aching thoughts at the sound of barely perceptible horse hooves riding not far behind him.  He sensed it was an elf riding the quiet mare, although not one that he recognized.  It seemed that this elf and himself were headed the same way, towards Rivendell.  Curious, he slowed his own horse and true enough, an almost-gloriously-pompous-looking elf (_even for an elf!_) soon emerged from the wood, clad in his warrior's best.

      His was a stance that was familiar but cold, movements perfectly controlled and modulated.  Even his eyes, deep and perceptive, were still as his face was carefully expressionless.  Legolas had never seen such magnificent restraint on anyone else, though he had a good guess from where this elf could have come.

      ~Headed towards Imladris, stranger from Lothlorien?~ he asked.

      ~Yes,~ replied the other elf, ~You are known to me also, Prince Legolas.  I was one of the envoys of the Lady Galadriel on your late brother's funeral.  Last I've heard, you yourself were dead.~

      ~It seems the more ill tidings travel quicker than the glad,~ Legolas said coolly, not wanting to think of those dark days, ~Apparently, your news is outdated.  Though this gives you the advantage of me.~

      ~I am Haldir,~ he replied, ~I've come to speak with Lord Elrond.~

      ~I see,~ said Legolas thoughtfully, ~So have I.~

      The Mirkwood elf wondered what, if at all, this Haldir of Lothlorien had to do with his own cause here.  Naturally, Legolas considered that as the Lord of Imladris, Elrond of Rivendell must be tending to a lot of other businesses than the misadventures of Estel and the twins (occupying as they were), and that which has brought Haldir here was just one among a bevy of such duties.  Perhaps it was only a coincidence that they happened to arrive at the same time.  But then again… fate was never really so kind, or so random.

      They traveled towards the gates in silence, and as he neared the House, Legolas thought back to the carefully worded letter that had sent him flying from Mirkwood and traveling here without delay, or rest, _or possibly even without much thought_.

_      Dearest Legolas,_ it began, and as early as then, his heart jumped for there seemed a pained gentleness about the pair of words, about the strangely, compulsively careful hand, as if its writer considered every curve of his letters, taking his time, searching his mind for just the right things to say.

      _These past few years that you have occasionally graced my halls with your jeweled eyes and musical laughter, I have begun to look upon you as a friend.  Not merely for the strength and kindness I have found in your heart, but by the joy you found in my sons did I know for a certainty that we must be of kindred spirits, in some way._

_      But as surely as we have an otherworldly bond borne of this, our loves and happiness, such too is the strength of the intrinsic connection you and I have in sharing its loss…_

_      Estel is fallen.  I know not if he lives, for information from his Rangers has been much delayed and sparse.  My other sons have left in pursuit of them to discover more of the truth after hearing he was lost during one of their tours, leaving my house glaringly empty.  Yet my heart remains resolute.  Estel's is a name that begs us to see beyond the dark of our days.  And I will not fail him.  He will come back to us._

_      For your part, all that I request is the same belief and trust, and prayer.  Perhaps the Valar will listen to you, their beautiful child who has seen more than his share of the dark than many beings that even _I_ know, for all of your far-shorter years.  _

_      Either way, I thought it prudent to let you know of what has happened.  Estel is the other half of your turbulent heart, I have seen it said in your eyes.  He sent you a shaft of light from his burning spirit, as he has done with me, with Elrohir, with Elladan, with Imladris, with Arwen.  May this light shine persistently (as stubborn perhaps as he), even in his absence, at least until he returns to brighten our days once more._

_Lord Elrond_

      Things were just beginning to settle down for him in Mirkwood after centuries of exile and periodic absences on tours with Estel when the letter came. 

      He had just dismounted from his horse, coming from a border patrol that had lasted an entire night.  The sun was rising, and he was given the message.  

      He barely made time to breathe.  He ran to his father's hall and breezily made his goodbye's, packed light for his journey, and took to the road once more, towards Rivendell.

      He was by now admittedly weary, but the direness of the situation pressed him forward, almost as much as the iron of his will did.

      He and Haldir were recognized and allowed into the gates, and they dismounted in a disconcertingly similar, graceful way.  The soldiers took care of their steeds, as a major domo ushered them towards the main hall of the House of Elrond.

TO BE CONTINUED…

**NOTES:**

(1) This is the sequel to "Exile" though can be read without having read that :) For those who are curious though, or need some reminding, "Exile" tells the tale of how Legolas and Aragorn met.  The Mirkwood prince was suspected of murder and fled his kingdom, running into Aragorn who helped clear his name.  Naturally it's more complicated than that, but that is the story in a nutshell :)

Reviews are of course, always welcome.  I wanted to say a big thanks to those who reviewed "Exile" and I hope this follow up will not be a disappointment.  A warning though: please do not count on incredibly quick posts as I had done with "Exile."  While I've finished about five or so chapters of "Escape" already by now, I'll be more careful with my pacing to ensure more or less regular posts.  

On the characters… naturally I couldn't resist sending Haldir into the fray!  And one more warning: I began "Exile" with a quirky circumstance (Legolas stealing Estel's horse) and I have an even more playful one in store.  A lot of aspects about this fic will be covering new ground for me (as you will see in the coming chapters and of which I will also note later), so I hope it won't be too terrible! :)  Anyway, thanks for your time and have fun :)  


	2. Chapter 2

Author: Mirrordance

Title: Escape

Summary: Aragorn is lost during a tour with the Rangers, and Legolas later finds him in Bree, without his memories & happily relieved of all his noble burdens, making the elf hesitate to bring him back to who he truly was.

* * *

PART 2

* * *

      The Lord of Imladris turned away from the beautiful sight of his Realm, upon word that Haldir of Lothlorien and Legolas of Mirkwood have arrived and were awaiting him in the receiving hall.

      He nodded distractedly at the major domo, who took his cue easily and slipped out of the room, leaving Elrond to his thoughts once more.  He turned back towards the view of his large, curved window.  

      He had informed the two warriors of the recent happenings in his House, though did not expressly bid them to come.  It was only by the trueness of the honor of their nature that they made their way here, perhaps to lend their aid in any way that they could.

      Though he expected they might arrive, he admittedly knew not precisely what to do with the pair of them.

      He looked upon his beautiful land, with it's fiercely, roaring waters.  What great splendor it held, and it gave him no surprise that it was a Haven for many a turbulent spirit.  Although… he wondered where _his_ haven would be, if even Imladris was lending him a heavy heart.

      He stepped away from his window and walked towards his hall, where his illustrious pair of guests awaited him.

      Haldir of Lothlorien and Legolas of Mirkwood stood feet and feet apart, though they equally stood tall and wary, and were alike in yet other respects.  Both were acclaimed warriors, both were of incredibly strong wills.  It was only by the countenance in their eyes did they differ, though this was a difference that set apart ice from wildly burning fire.  Haldir was stern as much as Legolas was fiery, despite his carefully controlled actions.  And thus did they look upon his arrival.  Haldir's eyes wary but in careful waiting.  Legolas' arduously searching.

      ~It is just as well that you arrived alongside of each other,~ said Lord Elrond, ~For yours is a dilemma that is unfortunately inextricably tied.  Do you know each other?~

      ~Loosely,~ Legolas replied, glancing at Haldir, ~He was in attendance at Lesandro's funeral.~

      ~And lingered around Mirkwood long enough to have heard of your own passing,~ Haldir added, raising an eyebrow in wordless inquiry.  Legolas ignored it.

      Elrond frowned, then nodded, and took this to mean that they had little else to do with each other, not to mention little _inclination_ to do so, occupied with their own worries as they each were.

      ~Some months ago,~ said Lord Elrond, ~Sari, an elf of Lothlorien was found at last, after centuries of captivity with some savage men who have made the mistake of attempting to pass through here.  He was in ill health, and of a distraught mind, but he has been restored to his kin at last, and was on the mend.  Especially by the caring hands of this house… Especially by the caring hands of those who loved him.

      ~Sari was once Arwen's betrothed,~ Elrond said to Legolas pointedly, ~She has long since mourned his loss.  Until there was Estel.~

      Legolas' jaw set.  Life was so miserably complicated.  He had returned from a centuries-long exile to find things much changed, but still undeniably… _convoluted_.  

      ~Some weeks after Sari was found, Estel returned to Imladris for some rest after a leg of his journey with the Rangers,~ Lord Elrond continued, ~You can imagine what it was he returned to.~

      Legolas glanced cautiously at Haldir, his loyalty to his friend lending him great displeasure over discussing Estel's private affairs in front of the stranger.

      ~I will have none of that, young Prince,~ Elrond warned him, ~You will soon see why it is important to discuss this.~

      Legolas paused, still displeased, but eventually cooperated.  ~Estel returned to find the love of his life,~ he finished flatly, ~reunited with the _other_ love of _her_ life.  And Sari, ailing and in desperate need of her ministrations.~

      ~And so Estel left,~ said Lord Elrond.

      ~It is hardly in his nature to simply give up,~ Legolas argued.

      ~I agree,~ Elrond conceded, ~But it was always in his nature to simply _give_, especially in knowing it was for her own good.~

      Legolas watched the Lord of Imladris, measuring, wondering _Did__ you have anything to do with it?_

      ~We had words,~ Elrond admitted, reading his eyes as a distant, regretful look crossed his face, ~We both recognized it was for the best.~

      ~What does this have to do with Estel's disappearance?~ asked Legolas, ~Or with Haldir of Lothlorien?~

      ~Estel left rather hurriedly,~ replied Elrond, ~But when he said goodbye to me, Legolas… how… how _final_ it seemed.  As if he never meant to return.  And now…~

      He shook his head, trying to shake free of a despair that has been mounting for weeks and weeks now.  

      ~Upon word that he was seen shot down and thereafter missing after a particularly harsh skirmish between the Rangers and Sauron's aggressors,~ he continued, ~Elrohir and Elladan hurriedly left in search of him.  With a despairing Arwen left here with Sari, the latter began to piece the story together, and realized he may have inadvertently had a hand in it, just by his mere presence.  And so he too left in search of Estel, to keep his honor and to make Arwen happy.~

      Haldir's eyes flashed.  ~I was sent here by the Lady Galadriel to take him home.~

      ~And so both your quests have become one,~ Elrond said, ~Legolas to search for Estel, and Haldir to retrieve Sari, who is also looking for my son.~

      Legolas glanced at the other elf warrior warily, not looking forward to traveling with him at all.  But he turned to Lord Elrond without complaint.  ~I wish to leave immediately.~

      ~As you would,~ sighed Lord Elrond, wishing he too could leave, but his people required his presence here, ~I shall have your horses and packs prepared, and in the meantime, I beg you take some rest while you can.  Long has been your road here, and the one that lies ahead of you is even longer.~

      As the Lord of Imladris turned to leave, Legolas stepped forward and said, ~I wish to see Arwen before we leave, my lord.  If I may.~

      Elrond turned to him and nodded, ~I think you know where she would be.~

* * *

      In truth, he wasn't entirely certain.  But if all he had heard from Estel was right, then his memory would not fail him, and he would find her in the gardens where she met the stunning human long ago.

      Sure enough, she was there, and her mournful eyes was such a heartbreaking contrast to how she had welcomed him the last time he was in Rivendell.

      ~Evenstar,~ he said softly, and said naught else for a moment, the look of her stricken face suddenly depriving him of his words.

      ~He is not dead,~ she said to him, ~My heart would know, wouldn't it, Legolas?~

      ~As would mine,~ Legolas agreed, nodding reassuringly.

      ~Yet I cannot feel his nearness,~ she said, ~Why is this so?~

      ~I know not,~ Legolas admitted, ~But you must not fear, my lady.  He will return.  He always has before.  Of such stern stuff is that stubborn man made.~

      She almost smiled, though her gloom overcast it easily.  ~Is it possible to love two all at once, Legolas? Can lightning strike the same place twice?  My heart is miserably cleaved.~

      Legolas paused in thought, ~Hearts are made in such a way that it can give love enough for many, I believe.~

      ~But I cannot have all.  With whom will my end be?~ she asked him, ~with whom will my Haven be?~

      He stared at her for a brief moment, at a loss for answers.  _Now would a good time to leave_, he thought, _cowardice be damned_.  Her questions were harder to face than a band of orcs.  Her searching eyes, though, kept his feet planted firmly against the ground.

      ~You must discover this yourself, Arwen,~ he told her, ~I will search for Estel, Evenstar.  And I will find him.  But you have to search for _yourself_, and find the answers only you can know.~

      She nodded, accepting this, before enfolding him in an embrace.

      ~Be safe, Legolas,~ she said softly against his ear, ~Restore him to me.~

      He turned away from her and walked back towards the house.  In afterthought, he honestly found that it was the road she traversed that was more perilous than his own… searching for oneself in a sea of hesitation and doubt.  He would know, for it was a path he had long since crossed.

      _Be safe, yourself, Arwen_.

TO BE CONTINUED…


	3. Chapter 3

Author: Mirrordance

Title: Escape

Summary: Aragorn is lost during a tour with the Rangers, and Legolas later finds him in Bree, without his memories & happily relieved of all his noble burdens, making the elf hesitate to bring him back to who he truly was.

* * *

PART 3

* * *

Road from Rivendell

* * *

      Legolas rode with Haldir of Lothlorien quietly and without complaint, though hardly with any pleasure in his company, often glancing at him warily.  The perceptive elf in turn clearly felt the Mirkwood prince's reserve.

      ~To be fair,~ said Haldir coolly, ~I find little joy in traveling with a murderer myself.~

      ~I've long been exonerated,~ Legolas snapped, a breath before he felt annoyed at himself for responding so passionately to a barb that was undoubtedly meant to agitate him.  The situation was dire enough without a frigid Lothlorien elf's quips, _thank you._

      ~We do not hear much from Mirkwood,~ Haldir conceded after a moment, tilting his head at the prince thoughtfully, considering his fiery countenance, ~You have the most curious compassion for this troublesome man.~

      Legolas said nothing, let him think what he wanted.

      ~The Lady Galadriel would be glad to hear you are alive,~ Haldir said suddenly.

      ~I do not know her very well,~ Legolas admitted, ~I cannot believe her joy over my living would be as great as her curiosity over how I managed it all these years.~

      Haldir considered, ~Perhaps.  I am quite curious myself.~

      Legolas let him stay that way.  The past was incorrigible, and he had no plans of reminding himself of it for the sake of a stranger's prying.

      They fell into uncomfortable silence.  Or at least, Legolas found it uncomfortable.  The unflappable Haldir certainly seemed to bear it well.  The Prince of Mirkwood could have even believed the haughty Lothlorien elf preferred traveling this way.  He in turn was used to an entirely different journey altogether.

      His older travels had been with his delightful brother, who was by now unfortunately long-deceased.  And then Estel came around, and the man was irresistibly contagious, somehow weaving his way into Legolas' centuries-hardened heart.  It was a companionship that lent him so much light and fire, so much warmth.  So much life.  The young human King lived so vicariously! There was always so much of him to go around, there was always something for him to give, to share.  Whenever Legolas felt he knew the man inside-out, there's some new tale to tell, some new facet of his character to enjoy and love.  

      _Estel_, his heart called, _Would__ you dare leave us_?

      ~The man _will_ die eventually, you know,~ Haldir told him flatly, reading the expression on his face, ~One way or another.~

      Legolas' eyes narrowed in irritation.  _Since we are being candid…_

      ~Have you ever been told you are not very good company?~ Legolas asked him outright.

      ~I am the March warden,~ Haldir said coolly, though his eyes glinted a little, appreciating the Prince's dry humor, ~I have walked with many.  I've received no complaints.~

      ~You will remember me always then,~ Legolas told him primly, annoyed.

      Haldir almost smiled.  The Mirkwood elf was such an irrepressible curiosity.  So much wildfire, as if he would burn before Haldir's very eyes.  It was all at once enviable and repulsive for an elf, to be so passionate, to be so _alive_.

      ~You act as if you will die tomorrow,~ Haldir scolded him instead.

      ~What?~ Legolas asked, confused.

      ~You've been around the man too long,~ Haldir clarified, ~You are stubborn and tireless.  Have you always been this way? I cannot imagine what an exhausting centuries of existence you must have had thus far.~

       Legolas, dismayed, turned away from the Lothlorien elf.  ~I much prefer your silence after all.~

      Haldir shrugged, and complied.

* * *

      Night soon fell, and wordlessly, the two warrior-elves took rest and made camp.  While both were loath to admit to weariness, it was painfully apparent that they each came from days-long journeys from their respective homes without rest.

      Besides, Legolas reasoned, it was always sensible to have a respite when one can afford it, rather than to be caught weary when time sped up again and one was, say, in the middle of a battle with the despicable _yrchs_.

      They had taken over a wide old tree, with great branches that spread up to the skies like wide open arms embracing the bright multitude of glimmering stars overhead.  If not for the situation _or the company_, Legolas thought, it might have been truly enjoyable.

      ~I shall take first watch,~ Haldir offered, his voice quiet and soothing as he himself looked up to the stars in fascinated reverence, ~Though your road from Mirkwood was shorter than mine headed towards Rivendell, you do look a bit more the worse for wear.~

      Legolas resented that.  The Lothlorien elf should have cut himself off after his offer and at least pretend to be marginally kind.  The comment pricked at the Mirkwood elf's formidable pride, but he bit his tongue, _this time_.

      ~How fares Lothlorien?~ he asked quietly, changing the subject to what he assumed would be safer ground.

      ~As well as always,~ Haldir replied easily, ~It will weather all these horrid events that go on around it.~

      ~Who was Sari in the Golden Wood?~ Legolas asked, ~Why did the Lady Galadriel find it prudent to have him escorted back?~

      ~He was our token fallen warrior in all these lifetimes,~ Haldir replied, ~Our kin, a son of our woods.  His return cements the surety and completeness of our strength.~

      ~I thought perhaps he would at least be a friend to you,~ Legolas said, thinking out loud, ~And this is why you would take him back yourself.~  Truly, how impersonal Haldir's reply had been.

      ~He is this also,~ Haldir said, his tone softening somewhat, making Legolas' eyebrow quirk at the discovery.  Perhaps the Lothlorien elf wasn't really so callous.  It was just all his years sitting heavily upon him, this poisonous complacency that seemed to ultimately plague most of them.  Or perhaps he was just really made this way, as armored with his feelings as his body was in warrior's garb. 

      ~You do have friends after all,~ Legolas murmured.

      Haldir's lips quirked a little.  ~More than you, I imagine.~

      Legolas frowned.  There was little uncertainty to the truth of the statement that was actually only meant to humor him. 

      ~Ah, I see I've hit a nerve again,~ Haldir said, feigning indifference although he was honestly beginning to be more wary of his words.  

      ~I will tell you the truth, Haldir,~ Legolas said, ~I do have few true friends.  As a matter of fact, I have so few I could count them with just my hands.~ 

      He glanced down at his fingers, considering.  He lost old friends from Mirkwood, of course, after his centuries of exile.  And now he was so seldom home he did not have the chance to reclaim them, even if they weren't as wary of him as everyone else in his Kingdom was.  His digits mainly consisted of Lord Elrond and his family.  But one hand… one _entire_ hand could have belonged _only_ to Estel.  To lose Estel was to lose his right hand.

      ~One of them is Estel,~ he said, with all that it implied.  

      _I cannot lose him_.

      Haldir stared at him, struggling to understand.  ~You've this strange mortal attachment.  I am more than ever curious of this man, who seems to have captured the heart of the Lord of Imladris, his pair of notoriously illustrious sons, the elusive Evenstar, even an exiled Prince from an isolated kingdom.  Curious indeed.  I almost cannot wait to come across him.~

      ~You believe he lives, then?~ Legolas asked.

      Haldir shrugged, feigning indifference.  ~I would know if I lost a hand.  Wouldn't you?~

      _~He is not dead,~ Arwen had said to him some hours ago, ~My heart would know, wouldn't it, Legolas?~_

_      ~As would mine,~ he agreed, nodding reassuringly._

      _Let our hearts not be mistaken._

TO BE CONTINUED…


	4. Chapter 4

Author: Mirrordance

Title: Escape

Summary: Aragorn is lost during a tour with the Rangers, and Legolas later finds him in Bree, without his memories & happily relieved of all his noble burdens, making the elf hesitate to bring him back to who he truly was.

* * *

PART 4

* * *

Outskirts of Bree

* * *

      The smell was curiously a mix of the foul and the invigorating (_or perhaps simply intoxicating_).  Even from the barest of its outskirts, busy Bree was a hub of concentrated activity, and the pair of warrior elves looked at it from atop a gently sloping hill, considering their options.

      ~Lord Elrond said his sons were in hot pursuit of the Rangers,~ said Legolas, ~I've heard many a tale from Estel of them stopping by here.~

      ~I've personally never been,~ shared Haldir wrinkling his nose, ~nor do I desire to do so.~

      ~It is on the way to the North and so we really might as well,~ Legolas pointed out.

      ~We will stick out like sore thumbs,~ Haldir said dispassionately, glancing at his clothes, ~Unless you plan to roll around in the mud and actually _look and smell _like the_ edain_.~

      Legolas almost smiled.  After a week of near-ceaseless traveling, he was getting more and more accustomed to the Lothlorien elf's candid ways.  Haldir had Estel's honesty, if not his charm. This particular instance, however, would have lent him a measure of joy anyway, whether he was beginning to get used to the other elf or not; the comment was mostly an unfair assessment, he thought, but was rather keen on teasing Estel of the same thing.  He kept this to himself though.  

      ~I've been here some years before,~ he said instead, pulling the hood of his cloak over his head, ~This should do for now.~

      He urged his horse forward.

* * *

      The Prancing Pony Inn was a place of sensational legend.  In the daylight it was a pleasant enough, though it was still undoubtedly a tired-looking house in an even more bedraggled town.  But at night, alive as it was with merry drunken fools and the wild flicker of scattered candlelight, it looked energized and stimulating, full of exotic strangers, travelers, drifters, merchants. 

      The adventurer in Legolas was invoked, though he kept his mind level against what he had to do.  Haldir beside him looked as coolly indifferent as always, though it was also painfully clear to Legolas that the Lothlorien elf was profoundly dismayed at, what to Legolas was actually an enchantingly different kind of disorder.

      Legolas made his way up to the innkeeper, who could not have been anyone else but the owner Mr. Butterbur, as was mentioned by sign outside.

      "I seek the Rangers," Legolas said to the man, who was busy seeing to his guests.

      "They came by some weeks hence," the innkeeper replied distractedly, handing out the local brew before turning to face the new arrival.  His eyes lit in surprise and pleasure at finding the glowing face of an elf undimmed even by the dark of his hood.

      "They lost one of their own, I heard,"  
 he continued, "Though they never really were much for merrymaking to begin with.  They held their corners, brooding, watching life unfold.  They were often quiet, except in those instances when they would tell some tale or news from their multitude of travels.  A curiosity is what they are, rather than friends of us Bree-folk.  Hostile peoples I bet they are, and you knew, _just knew_, in their silence, they listened to everything.  'Tis a fool who would want to keep their company, I say."

      "Would you know of anyone who can give me information on their whereabouts?" asked Legolas.

      The innkeeper shook his head, "They always know more than what is actually known of them, I'm afraid."

      "I see," said Legolas, tossing the old man a golden coin from one of his discrete pockets, "Thank you for your time."

      "Will you not have a drink?" asked the man, "Or perhaps stay a night?"

      "Our business is more or less done here," Legolas said, nodding and turning to leave.  The old man seemed hesitant to let him go, though.

      "We do not have many elves come by here," he said, "A shame that you will leave so soon and not regale us with your tales.  Why, some weeks back another pair of elves inquired of the same, and left just as quickly.  And one other some weeks after that.  All of you strange folk looking for them cursed Rangers.  What is happening out there in the rest of the world, master?"

      Legolas stared at the old man for a moment, not really knowing how to answer.  The pair of elves must have been Elladan and Elrohir.  The one after that must have been Sari.  For a town that was generally not much frequented by elves, it really would have been a curiosity to know why it was they suddenly seemed to come in reasonable force, all seeking the same thing.

      "Nothing that concerns you," Haldir said to him coolly, "And nothing that needs any worrying."

      "Everything concerns everyone here," the old man said wryly, but he let them go at that, saying, "I'll hold my tongue, as you would have it.  Stranger folk have come and gone here than you, leaving more questions than answers.  'Tis hardly new.  I just thought perhaps you'd indulge an old man."

      "I happen to be much older than you," Haldir said, almost smiling, just before he and Legolas left the inn.

* * *

      Outside the Prancing Pony, the night breeze still seemed to manage to trickle into noisy, busy old Bree.  Legolas and Haldir clung to the refreshing blessing, small as it was, and breathed it in.

      The streets here were no less populated than the notorious inn.  Much more so this night, for people seemed to be crowding a makeshift stage set up by a motley crew of traveling actors.  

      Legolas and Haldir paused for a moment, glancing at art that their elvish senses deemed hideously inadequate and almost painful.  The elderly man who presently held the stage was a rather terrible performer, standing there with profound unease.  What was even stranger was that he had a pair of carrots attached to his ears, and Legolas and Haldir blanched almost simultaneously the moment they realized this man was acting as an elf, of all things!

      "Where goes my s-s-son?" the 'elf' asked out loud, as if giving someone a hopelessly obvious cue to enter, looking left, and then right.

      ~Have they no shame?!~ Haldir exclaimed, fascinated and embarrassed for the performers.

      Legolas opened his mouth to say something more veiled though probably just as scathing, when the most astounding sight in the world stepped forward from the wings of that rickety stage.

      "You would know not to look for me, further, father," the new entrant said in a jovial, _achingly_ _familiar_ voice, "If you looked but a point further than the tip of your raised nose."

      The crowd ooohed at the remark implying the marked aloofness of the elves, and the entrant bowed gamely at them, making some locals laugh and scream in delight.

      ~Oh for the Valar's sake,~ muttered Haldir, ~Let us leave this place and strive to forget this _mockery_ of a dignified art form.~

      Legolas wordlessly held his ground, gaze arrested.  Haldir looked at him with eyes wide, trying to comprehend why he would not leave the offensive performance.  He turned back to the stage, where one of the elderly actor's carrot-elven-ears fell off.  The crowd laughed, especially when he stooped forward and the other ear fell off too.  He doddered quite a bit, and all the laughing only seemed to worsen his already-terrible performance.  The other actor though, held such a mighty presence.  Tall, and dark-haired, muscular and strong, he sucked the already-meager light from the grim night, a sight to behold was he, a great force, _a King_.

      Legolas pushed his way past the crowds.  It was rude, yes, but most of Bree hardly gave a care.  Brows furrowed, Haldir followed him forward as he made his way to the front of the stage.

      To Haldir's misery, they stood amidst the crowd of laughing fools 'til the end of what was admittedly a comedy that was only funny because it was performed so profoundly wrongly.  Either way, the laughter resounded in the night, and the cheers were loud as the band of actors bowed out and concluded their performance.

      _Oh Estel_, Legolas thought, as he watched the burly human bow and smile, apparently unaware that he was there, _You always seemed to know just how to get into trouble._

_      And you always seemed to know just how to find me_.

TO BE CONTINUED…


	5. Chapter 5

Author: Mirrordance

Title: Escape

Summary: Aragorn is lost during a tour with the Rangers, and Legolas later finds him in Bree, without his memories & happily relieved of all his noble burdens, making the elf hesitate to bring him back to who he truly was.

* * *

PART FIVE

* * *

      The crowds began to clear, mulling about their own businesses.  The group of actors, numbering four, were collecting favors from audiences who were handing them everything from silver and gold coins to various kinds of foodstuffs to express their appreciation.

      Legolas, flanked by Haldir, stepped forward towards them, hesitant.  Aside from Estel and the old man whom he first saw on the rickety stage, there was an elderly woman with disconcertingly sharp, amber eyes with them, and a portly youth with pink cheeks carrying a basket laden with fruits.  He was already happily munching on an apple, before the old woman slapped at his hands and told him to leave some for the rest of the family.

      A smiling Estel looked up at the pair of hooded arrivals, unfazed by their grave appearances.

      "Cecilia!" he exclaimed to the old woman in his company, "Look it here! A pair of elves have come to grace us with their presence!"

      Cecilia looked at them cautiously, and there was something scathing in her eyes that Legolas could not seem to understand.  So great was her wariness, as if they have come to wrest some kind of treasure from her.

      "Estel," Legolas called him softly, smiling slightly as he pulled back his hood to reveal his face to the human, ~You sent us a long way only just to be mocked by you.~

      Estel's eyes dimmed for a moment, as if some strange thought crossed his mind, before he smiled once again.

      "I'm sorry, master elf, I know not of your language," he said apologetically, though his eyes twinkled as he removed the carrots from his ears and showed them to Legolas, "You mistake me for your kin, but these are not real.  As you can see."

      Legolas looked at him with a stricken expression on his face, ~Estel, stop kidding around.  We thought you were dead! Lord Elrond, your brothers, Arwen…~

      Estel turned to the other elf, who was still hooded as his eyes surveyed the situation wordlessly.

      "Please tell your companion I cannot understand," he said, opening his palms up helplessly, "Was he by any chance offended by our play?"

      "He wasn't," Haldir said coolly, "But I was.  It was terrible."

      Estel smirked, turned to his human companions, "Well Bree certainly liked it, didn't they?"

      "They are drunken fools," Haldir pointed out.

      Legolas watched the conversation, his heart pounding and his eyes turbulent as he struggled to take hold of the situation.

      ~If you so desperately desired to escape,~ he told Estel fervently, ~You needn't have made us all believe you were dead.  It was highly unnecessary, nay, profoundly unkind of you to have done so…~

      Estel stared at Legolas, unsure of what to do with him, but seemed taken by the spell of his searching eyes.  There was something about the elf and his strange words that held him, and all at once called unto something deeper within him that he himself did not know of.  Estel opened his mouth, as if to ask something, but Cecilia's harsh tone cut him off, and just as effectively cut him from the elf's enchantments.

      "Let us hurry," Cecilia said, "The hour is late."

      Estel began to turn away.

      "Estel…" Legolas said tentatively.

      "We must go," Estel said apologetically, though he seemed rather relieved that he had an excuse to leave.  The elf, with his confused, yearning eyes, was making him profoundly uneasy.

      Legolas laid a hand against the man's arm, keeping him from leaving.  He looked searchingly upon the weathered but still-handsome face.  The eyes were deep and wise, the expression resting upon them open and honest and earnest.  This was Estel, to be sure, though it seemed just as certain that the man could not recognize him.  Legolas' brows furrowed.  How was this possible?

      There was a healing but still-nasty scar against the side of Estel's forehead, one that Legolas did not recognize as having been from their misadventures together.  He reached to lay a hand against it.

      "Easy!" Estel laughed, stepping back, trying to mask his discomfort, "It is tender still, master elf."  He looked at the other, far-colder elf as if for aid, saying, "He is rather fascinated by me, isn't he?"

      "I would say so," Haldir conceded, touching Legolas' shoulder as he said in a lowered voice, ~Hold yourself together.~

      Legolas looked at the Lothlorien elf for a quiet moment, before nodding.  He turned to look at the Estel, who was watching him warily.

      "I… apologize," Legolas said, trying to keep his voice strong.  The words were practically being wrested from his mouth, so hesitant was he to say them, "I mistook you for an old friend I knew from long ago.  What is your name, sir?"

      "Dalsegno," Estel replied, extending his hand to shake, smiling a little as he let his guard down just-so.  Legolas took it, and marked the exact feel of Estel's hands imprinted upon this stranger's.  He knew this hand, it's warmth, it's effortless strength, from the very first time he held it when he met the _adan_ years ago.

_      The two of them landed hard on the ground at a roll with the force of the assault._

_      Yelping at the pain of the impact and caught by surprise over the maneuver and its complete and utter **madness**, Legolas was soon bested, the human straddling him against the ground.  Both of them were breathless and aching, but they held each other's glare coolly._

_      "Why bother saving me," asked Legolas wryly, breaking the taut silence, "If you were planning on breaking my neck anyway?"  
      "You were distracted shortly after," Strider replied, sharing the elf's dry humor with his dancing but cautious eyes, "I merely took advantage of an opportune instant."_

_      Legolas turned his head towards the direction from which they came.  The pounding of the horse hooves were vanishing in the near distance._

_      "Now you lost two horses instead of one," he pointed out, "you should have just let me take it."  
      "They know their way back to me," the human said confidently, eyeing the elf, measuring, "If you wanted a ride so badly, perhaps you should have just asked."_

_      "Can I have your horse then?" Legolas asked, pretending to be obtusely naïve._

_      "No," laughed the human, surprised at the other's audacity, "I meant asked for a ride or some such thing."_

_      They held each other's gazes for a moment more, before the human sighed and rose to his feet, stepping back from the elf and offering him his hand to rise as well.  Gamely, Legolas took it, but instead of using it to pull himself up, he pulled the human down and swung at his long legs, effectively tripping him and sending him crashing to the floor._

_      Strider grunted in dismay at the impact of his back to the ground, but he chuckled and said, "You're pretty petty for an elf."_

_      Legolas sneered at him—also very much unlike an elf!--and gained his feet on his own.  He hesitated a moment before offering the human his hand to aid him in turn._

_      "Of course you're suspicious," sighed Strider, taking the proffered hand and rising, "You know what they say, you shouldn't do to others what you do not want them to do to yourself."_

      He met Estel trying to steal the man's horse and of course, Estel did not let him.  He knew Estel's hand then, and this acute knowledge was only improved by the time they spent together since, and the many other misadventures such a companionship undoubtedly entailed.  It was _this_ hand that has been extended to him each time he fell and needed aid.  It was _this_ hand that patted his shoulder reassuringly in days that felt darker than the Mirkwood nights.  

      There was no two ways about it.  Dalsegno was Estel, and Estel was he.  And yet… was Estel pretending? Was he seeking to escape? Or perhaps the cut on his head was the culprit.  Legolas heard of such instances, when one's head injuries caused one to forget.

      _But forget _**me**_?_ he wondered, disbelieving, and all at once embarrassed by his own arrogance.  

      "The cut upon your head," Legolas said as he took his hand from the man's, "What caused it?"

      "I thought elves were the masters of all that was well and mannerly," Dalsegno/Estel teased, "I've yet to learn of your name."

      Naturally, Legolas instinctively did not bother with his name, as if he expected it to just be known.  _You bonk your head, you stupid adan,_ he thought irritably,_ and you completely forget about me_.

      "I am Legolas," he replied, and motioned for the cloaked elf beside him, "And this is Haldir."

      "This cunning woman there is Cecilia," Estel introduced his own companions, "Our fine actor here is Damien, and the much-fattened apple-eater is called Biggles.  We are the Bree-folk Company of Actors."  

      "Actors," Legolas repeated flatly, after a moment of disbelief.

      "Yes, actors," Estel beamed.

      _I turn my back on you for one moment…_

      "What straits you get into," Legolas muttered.

      Estel's brows furrowed, "Excuse me?"

      "He said, 'The stage becomes you,'" Haldir lied wryly.

      "Let us leave," Cecilia said gruffly.

      "Don't be rude, Cecilia," Estel teased her, "Can you not see we are entertaining these curious strangers?"

      "One elf is the same as the others," she pointed out, "Curse your curiosity boy, we must be off."

      "He has a fascination for the elves, our Dalsegno," said Biggles jovially, "Why, we are entertaining one in our home right now, aren't we?"

      "Yes," Estel said, eyes twinkling as he nodded, "Perhaps you fair folk would know him.  He seems somewhat under the weather.  Sari, his name is.  We came upon him some weeks back."

      "Sari?" Haldir asked sharply.

      "Let us leave!" Cecilia exclaimed.

      "We wish to see this elf," Haldir said, "He is a friend of ours.  We have long been in search of him."

      "Come over to our home for tea," Estel smiled at the pair of elves invitingly, "Perhaps you will give Sari some much-needed cheer."

      "We have no tea to spare!" Cecilia snapped.

      "You always say that," Estel said to her indulgently, "And it's seldom true."

      Cecilia's eyes narrowed in irritation.  "If them elves are having my tea, they had best better earn it."

      "She is just asking for your help to pack up," Estel told Legolas and Haldir, "You needn't, though.  Her bark is bad enough as it is, but it is far worse than her bite."

      "We will help," Legolas said quickly, smiling tentatively.  It wasn't the tea he wanted, of course, and he frankly cared little for Sari.  But he wasn't going to let Estel out of his sight again.

TO BE CONTINUED…

SOME NOTES:

On my reviewers.  First of all, thank you to my kind reviewers.  I said at the first installments of "Escape" that I may not be as diligent with updates as I was with "Exile" because of time constraints in other realms of my life but your encouragements just seem to have a power over me.  So massive, massive thanks.  I am also very encouraged because as I said, I felt I was covering new ground here; with Haldir, with Estel, with an OC rival of Estel, with an entirely new world that I wondered if Tolkien's fans would actually find fitting and worthy of being in Middle-Earth.

On "Dalsegno". actually means to repeat, and I believe it is a musical sign.  I named Estel this because it's kind of a throw-back to Exile.  There will be a repletion of things here, except this time it is Estel who has borrowed a different identity instead of Legolas, and this time, it is Legolas who is wondering who Estel is.

On Haldir.  I wondered how my version of him would be received and was really rather nervous because he is a well-loved character.  I'm pleased to say I've not had any violent reactions so far :)

On the idea of Estel as an actor.  I did warn you of a quirky circumstance, didn't I? In "Exile," I had Legolas stealing a horse, and here, it is Estel with carrot-ears.  But of course, while it is visually interesting, it's also hardly a comedy (because I find I'm not witty enough to write one).  

Thanks to: 

silvertoekee, port (I really work hard and I'm glad you appreciate it), kanaylle, frisha, halandleg4ever (I hope you enjoy this indeed, with haldir and legolas in it, I hope you won't be disappointed!), jenzy, dragonfly, tmelange, kit cloudkicker, idle mind, kandice (I hope Sari won't be too not likable the more you get to read of him in the coming chapters!), po-pla, the great Platy (am always, always grateful for your encouragement), Lady of Nimrodel, tychen, raven elendil black, elvendancer (don't apologize for not reviewing, I understand perfectly well the demands of our lives outside of this.  thank you for even taking the time to read my stories :)), silvertongue, stoneage woman (am always trying not to disappoint you :)), alice7 and justeenh and to everyone else who spared some of their time to read my fic.  Hope you guys have fun and see you at the next post :)


	6. Chapter 6

Author: Mirrordance

Title: Escape

Summary: Aragorn is lost during a tour with the Rangers, and Legolas later finds him in Bree, without his memories & happily relieved of all his noble burdens, making the elf hesitate to bring him back to who he truly was.

* * *

PART SIX

* * *

      The Bree-folk Company of Actors was actually not made up of Bree-folk at all, but people from the quieter, neighboring towns.  Haldir reckoned the name was flawed in other ways as well, specifically that 'Actors' should either be re-stated as 'Struggling Actors' or 'Terrible Actors' or better yet, removed altogether.

      "I suppose it is the search of your elven friend that had ultimately brought you here," Estel said to Legolas.  They were traveling alongside of each other on foot, their reined horses flanking them and bearing their things.  Riding a cart and holding point was Cecilia, Biggles and Damien, while Haldir, riding his horse and looking like a fetching picture in the night, was situated at the tail of the party.

      "Yes, it is," Legolas half-lied.

      Legolas breathed in the cool night air, relieved to be away from congested old Bree, as interesting as it might have been.  It was also a relief to be traveling with Estel again, or whichever incarnation of the crazy _adan_ he was with now.  Strider, Estel, Dalsegno.  No wonder he was confused.

      "We found him ailing," Estel said, "Sari was weary, and. and if you do not mind me saying so, he seemed rather. well, he was unlike any elf I've ever seen.  Shaky.  Sickly.  We nursed him back to health and, well, he never really left."

      _It seems to be a running trend_, Legolas thought sourly, thinking of Estel and how he not only managed to get into this situation, he actually seemed to be pleased being stuck within it.

      "Not that we mind overly much," Estel admitted, "He helps around.  And we are used to drifters and orphans."

      "Orphans?" Legolas asked.

      "Why yes," replied Estel, "The world, it is changing and not at all for the better.  Dark forces attack the settlements sometimes.  Many children are left on their own, without families.  Cecilia, I know she seems stern.  But she houses any and all who come upon her door.  All that we earn are to keep the children fed, and warm, and safe.  We do not have much, but there is always enough for one more."

      Legolas stared at the man, not really finding anything to say.  

_      I turn my back on your for one moment_, he thought again, though more fondly this time.  And so Estel has escaped from his past, but plunged headfirst into some other noble cause altogether.  The man just seemed to be destined to do good things.

      "Orphans and drifters," he repeated.

      "Yes," Estel smiled.

      _And you are both_, Legolas thought belatedly.

* * *

      The group soon came upon a house made of logs, partially hidden by a thin growth of trees, and sitting alongside a running stream.  The moon was high up in the sky, and lent a silver glow to the otherwise simple sight, making it almost enchanting.

      Its reasonable isolation from the overcrowded settlements lent Legolas some comfort, for he was never much for the bustling towns.  But it was also a place that could be rife with dangers, and he realized this was perhaps many braved the discomfort of the congested cities if only to be more safe.

      For now, though, he knew to trust his elven-senses that there were no dark creatures abound in the night, and for a little while at least, they had peace.  And they had Estel.

      Even if he admittedly did not know what to do with him.  

      Can a memory lost from a head injury be recovered in a few days? Or at all? Would Estel trust him and take his word for it if he told the man expressly who he was instead of waiting for him to recall? If Estel didn't believe him, could Legolas forcibly take Estel from this place and take him to Rivendell (_i.e. and therefore to the admittedly higher powers of Lord Elrond_) and put this little problem upon their more able hands instead?

      He knew not.  But he kept this road for now, because at this time, one objective remained clear: Estel was _not_ under any circumstances leaving his sight.  The loss of him had been too real.  In retrospect it had only been days that Legolas felt that great, deprived and hopeless aching.  And in truth, it was actually rather easy to find him (probably because it was almost as if it was Estel who found him instead).  But it is not with time that such aches are measured, and certainly not with the smile of chance.  The loss was real enough.  He had long feared it, and it was still worse than he thought it would be.

      _As if your life weren't short enough_, he thought of Estel dispassionately, _You__ go on doing all these crazy things.  Why are you in such a hurry to avail of Iluvatar's gift, my friend?_

      "You are so deep in thought." 

      Legolas looked at Estel sharply, for the poignant memory struck a chord in his already-conflicted heart.  The human in turn seemed to read the stricken expression on Legolas' face, and seemed just as stunned over the strange recollection playing the elusive ghost inside his head.

      _You are so deep in thought_, Estel had said to him a year ago.  A memory ago.  Or better yet, an entirely different life ago, at least for Estel.

      Estel looked away from the elf, distraught for a few moments.  He blinked, and his hand absently drifted to the cut upon his head, as if it pained him, or perhaps because it anchored him to some strange ground that was sunk too deep in a sea of things so unknown he could not see to its bottom.

      ~What ails you?~ Legolas asked in his native tongue, before remembering that Estel-or perhaps Dalsegno-could not understand him, and said instead, "What's wrong?"

      _Or what is right?_, Legolas corrected himself, _For__ is it that you are beginning to remember.?_

      Estel shook his head, as if the action would free him from his demons.  His hand fell from his head, and he walked on in silence.  Legolas watched him with some disappointment.      

      The Mirkwood elf absolutely desired to press him, but he held his tongue the closer they came upon the humble log house, for from within it streamed a flood of children spanning all ages.  Estel smiled at the sight of them, and it was so filled with a warmth that had once been directed at Legolas that he found himself looking upon the children with an irrational envy.

      "The pout does not become you, master elf," Estel winked at him, before getting whisked away by the children who gathered and laughed around his feet.

      Feeling distinctly out of place, Legolas held his ground for a moment, and felt Haldir dismount his steed and stand beside him.

      ~I do not understand much of this,~ Haldir admitted, ~Though I suppose it is safe to say from that look on your face that the _actor_ is the heir to the throne of Gondor and Arnor.  _This_ doesn't become _a King_ at all.~

      Legolas watched as Estel charmed his adoring troupe into taking his horse to the stables for him, into taking his coat, his burdens, and carrying them into the house.  He stooped low and took a young girl in his arms, and she smiled toothlessly and delightedly at him.

      ~You'd be surprised,~ said Legolas wryly, ~At how easily he becomes _anything_ at all.~ 

      Haldir paused in thought for a moment, weighing his words, ~Are you sure the man you met is truly who he is supposed to be then?~ Haldir asked him, his sharp eyes reading the sudden hesitation that crossed the other elf's face.

      Though the comments were oft unwelcome, Legolas had to admit the Lothlorien elf's perceptive words made sense, deserved thought.

      _As unwelcome as the truest and worst of truths_, Legolas conceded.

      Estel was an elf when amongst elves, and a man when amongst men.  He was both a warrior and a lover.  A King and a servant.  Legolas had seen his charm, but also his loneliness.  Legolas always thought he knew Estel best.  There was little doubt of the truth that certainly none knew _him_ better than Estel did and so the converse must also be true.  But was it an illusion, he now wondered.  Was he just a phase in Strider's life? A page from a thick book, turned and now done with?

      _Who are you_? he ached to ask of the man he thought he knew.  What was ridiculous about this entire situation was that, it seemed the man in question knew not of the answers either.

TO BE CONTINUED.


	7. Chapter 7

Author: Mirrordance

Title: Escape

Summary: Aragorn is lost during a tour with the Rangers, and Legolas later finds him in Bree, without his memories & happily relieved of all his noble burdens, making the elf hesitate to bring him back to who he truly was.

* * *

PART SEVEN

* * *

      Biggles took their horses to the stables, while Damien helped them with their packs and wordlessly led them into the house.  Biggles was as noisy as Damien was painfully quiet.  Cecilia, on the other hand, was an entirely different kind of person altogether. Apparently, she was a minor goddess here, and she strode regally up into her home as if it was a great castle.

      The house was radiantly warm with laughter and candlelight, making it more pleasant than crowded, even if there must have been at least one child everywhere one turned.  They were looking at the pair of new arrivals with hungry curiosity and bright eyes.

      One of the younger children, a young boy of about four years, boldly stepped forward along their path.  "Have you come to take Sari away?"

      Apparently a young troop-leader, a few more kids stepped alongside him and followed his bold defense.  

      "I'll have none of that, little Allan," Damien scolded, "These are our guests.  You show them Cecilia brought you up right."

      Allan's steely eyes remained upon the pair of elves, and Haldir looked down upon him coolly.

      "No one will be taken against their will, young sir," Haldir assured them, "He will go with us if he desired."

      "He wouldn't want to," Allan said confidently, "He likes it here."

      The group of Sari's defenders moved out of their way warily.  Haldir's face was expressionless, but his mind was reeling.  When he had known Sari, the elf was one of their mightiest warriors.  Illustrious, handsome Sari, a hero through and through.  And now he had a band of scrawny young orphans come to his defense.  Perhaps Legolas was not the only one here who had come looking for a friend and instead found a stranger.

      The house was reasonably spacious, and it had such a strange, eclectic character to it.  Nothing matched, nothing fit.  And yet it all came together in some distortedly comforting way.  Rooms seemed to be extended and extended, enlarged and enlarged from their original size, undoubtedly to accommodate the growing number of permanent house guests.

      Damien led them into the kitchen, which was by far the 'emptiest' place in the house, occupied by just two grown-ups.  The child in Legolas understood perfectly well why; to stay in the kitchen was to court a chore, and any child by principle did not wish for any.

      Damien ushered them into seats, and murmured something about putting their things inside their rooms.  Legolas looked at him quizzically.

      "We will not stay long, you know," he told the old man.

      Damien's face held a strange, knowing look.  "That's what they all said."

      And then he left, leaving Legolas puzzled, and strangely touched by the easy, quiet welcome.  He turned to face the two grown-ups in the room, who were in turn looking back at Haldir and himself.

      One of them was a young woman with a strikingly beautiful face.  At first glance, Legolas found her to be a little on the heavy side-a far cry from the lithe forms of the elvish woman.  But the more he looked, the more he appreciated the softness of her features.  Her skin glowed healthily, her amber eyes glistened with a strange kind of warmth and magic.  There was no harshness to her at all, everything curved in a graceful, fluid manner.  

       The elf beside her must have been Sari.  His eyes still had their elvish sheen to them, unmistakably bright.  But it was dulled somewhat by his apparent weariness, and he was more gaunt than they usually were.  Bony and grave, he looked, though still handsome.  His golden hair came in short, jagged wisps that framed his sculpted face, and was as chiseled as the woman beside him was healthily round.

      Sari was looking at Haldir with a smile teasing his lips.  It was a look that belonged to one sighting an old friend, a look that was full of comfort and memory.  Legolas watched them with envy.

      ~I used to be better looking than you,~ Sari said to Haldir, his fingers running through the corners of his unkempt hair consciously.

      Haldir hmphed, but smiled as well.  The warmth of it was distinct and true, and was the most disarmed Legolas had ever seen of the Lothlorien elf.

       "This is Teresa," Sari introduced the woman beside him, "She makes a fantastic cup of tea."

      "Is that a pointed hint that I should be making some for your friends?" she asked him good-naturedly.

      "Yes."

      She laughed and told him he was impossible, just before she turned to do as he asked.

      "The glorious and pompous elf there is Haldir, an old friend of mine," Sari introduced.

      "Which one of the pair of them?" Teresa asked him, winking at the new arrivals.

      "A fair question," Sari laughed.

      "This is Legolas," Haldir introduced, "of Mirkwood."

      "The Prince of Mirkwood?" Sari's brows raised, "Why, the last I heard, you were accused of murder and killed."

      "He's long been exonerated," Haldir said wryly, echoing what Legolas said to him but days ago.  He was still yet to hear that curious little tale, but let it rest for now.

      "You look like a prince," Teresa commented over a pot of boiling water, "Haughty-like.  But not in the bad way, if you get my meaning."

      Legolas looked at them with undisguised misery.

      Just then, Estel stepped into the kitchen with the basket of fruits they brought with them from Bree.  There were still children around his feet at the door, and magically, they gradually dissipated as Estel delved deeper into the kitchen.

      "This is where you enter for peace and quiet," he said to their guests by way of explanation, "The kitchen, where they do not want to cook.  And the stream, where they refuse to bathe."

      "Hello Dalsegno," Teresa smiled graciously at the new arrival, peering at the basket as Estel placed it atop the counter, "Was it you who picked up the pair of strays?"

      "Yes," Estel grinned, "More slaves to do your bidding."

      "We won't be staying long," Legolas found the need to say.

      "That's what we all said," Estel told him cheekily.

      "I've been hearing that," Legolas admitted.

      Estel stepped over, and tugged at the cloaks of the new arrivals.  "Let me hang these for you."

      Hesitantly, Legolas and Haldir complied, and Estel vanished from the room once again.  Sari watched the man leave, and his sharp eyes landed upon Legolas'.

      _What a strange arrangement_, Legolas reflected, _that both of those who battle for Arwen's heart inadvertently found themselves finding peace not merely away from her, but even **together**._

      ~You know who he is,~ Sari concluded by the look on Legolas' face, ~And therefore you must know who I am too.~

      ~I thought so,~ Legolas shook his head, admitting, ~But now I believe I don't really know much at all.~

* * *

      They had a modest dinner of much-diluted broth, but it had a nice kick to it, and the company certainly filled the heart some, if not the stomach.

      The children were miraculously saintly in Cecilia's presence, charming and kind.  Estel was jovial and light of heart, seated next to her.  The table was impossibly long and filled from corner to corner.  Sari was even holding a babe in his arms and feeding her.  Haldir watched him curiously, and Sari felt the weight of that distinct gaze.  He met the other's eyes easily, and his lips tugged at a helpless smile.  He shrugged almost imperceptibly as if saying, _I don't know how it happened either_.

      "Do you have any stories?" the young girl seated beside Legolas asked him, as she tugged at his sleeve.

      "I bet the elf has lots!" a rowdy young boy said from across the table, "They live forever you know.  Lots and lots must have happened to them."

      "How old are you?" asked another, "Raul said you were eight thousand years old, like.  Almost older than Cecilia."

      The children laughed, and the old woman who was being teased just scowled at the clever child.

      _Who's Raul_? Legolas wondered inanely, uncomfortable with the barrage of questions, not to mention the ardent attention he was getting.

      "Now, now," Estel said with a laugh, calming down his troops, "Easy on the elf, he's rather tired, you know."

      "Elves don't tire," argued Allan, "You said so."

      "This one is tired _of you_," Estel pointed out, "There's a difference."

      The children returned to their food, listening to the orders of the man who was, for all intents and purposes, seemingly their King.

      _Well he can't exactly loose _all_ of himself_, Legolas thought wryly.

* * *

      It was another circus altogether getting the children to their beds to sleep for the night.  A massive room held all the boys, and another held all the girls.  A smaller room was shared by Cecilia and Teresa, while another slightly bigger one was for Biggles, Damien, Sari and Estel.  It was in this room that Legolas and Haldir found their things, and mats laid out for them.  Cecilia accepted them wordlessly into her home, and such was her outwardly cold but caring way.

      _Or perhaps she may just be simply resigned_, Legolas resolved.  

      Biggles stretched out on his mat, yawning and stretching indulgently.  In moments he was snoring and beside him, as quiet in wakefulness as he was in sleeping, Damien curled into a ball, taking up as little space as possible.

      Sari walked them into the room but lingered by the door, and Haldir looked at him inquiringly.

      "I take first watch," he explained, "Have a good night."

      "I shall join you," Haldir said, stepping towards him. 

      "You needn't," Sari said quickly.

      ~We need to speak,~ Haldir told him flatly.

      Sari stared at him for a moment, and nodded.  The two elves excused themselves with polite murmurs, and Legolas found himself alone in the room with Estel.

      "Don't forget to wake me for my turn!" Estel called out after Sari, before he turned to face Legolas, saying, "He always says he forgets.  But I think he does it on purpose."

      "I don't doubt it," said Legolas after a moment of thought, "Elves are stronger than men.  He can take the entire shift.  You need your rest more than we."

      "He is sicker than I," Estel pointed out, "I should know better and take the first shift.  But he always promises he will make the necessary changes.  And he never does."

      Legolas breathed deeply, not quite knowing what to say.  Estel seemed to be scrambling for petty things to discuss himself, and their discomfort was stifling the room.  He sat beside Estel, folding his arms over his knees and resting his chin on them, thoughtful.

      "How did you come upon this place?" he asked the man.

      "A curious thing, really," Estel smiled, "Cecilia said I must have been just walking by.  And then orcs came around here, and I aided them.  Cecilia said I fought like a vindictive demon.  I'm not at all sure if that is a good thing.  But there it was.  But I must have been injured because." he touched at the healing wound against his temple absently, "well, when all enemies have been felled or have fled, a strange darkness closed in and I woke up here."

      "And you never left," Legolas said flatly.

      "I had nowhere to go," Estel said softly, "I remember I woke up, not knowing. much.  It's as if my heart beat furiously, but it was empty.  Cecilia said it will pass.  She said this was my family now.  And she was right."

      Legolas noted the multitude of _Cecilia said's_ in the man's 'recollections.'  Recollections that were obviously not his own.

      "You do not remember," Legolas concluded.

      Estel pursed his lips, shook his head.

      "It will return," the man said hesitantly after a moment.  He paused suddenly, as if intentionally leaving something out.

      "But what?" Legolas asked him.

      "But I'm not sure if I want them to," Estel confessed, smiling at the elf hesitantly, "Does that make sense?"

      Legolas brows furrowed in thought.

      Yes, he fervently knew of that ardent desire to escape.  To simply leave things behind.  To plunge into things one knew not much of, as long as it was away from where he had come.  Oh, how well did he know.  

      Estel was looking at him expectantly.  But he kept these thoughts to himself.  Instead he smiled as much of one that he could muster; it was unfortunately but a dull flinch of light in the night.

      "Go to sleep," he told Estel softly, as he turned away from the man and laid upon his mat, pretending to drift away into dreaming,

      _Escaping for now_.

TO BE CONTINUED.


	8. Chapter 8

Author: Mirrordance

Title: Escape

Summary: Aragorn is lost during a tour with the Rangers, and Legolas later finds him in Bree, without his memories & happily relieved of all his noble burdens, making the elf hesitate to bring him back to who he truly was.

* * *

PART EIGHT

* * *

      Haldir sat beside Sari on the floor of the old porch leading up to the doors of the house.  The night was cool and quiet, and the moonlight played about the stream in front of the house, magically tossing shafts of silver here and there.

      ~Well,~ said Sari, ~You've found us.  What is it that you intend to do?~

      Haldir paused in thought.  ~You found the _adan_.  And yet you chose not to inform any of us.  What were _you_ intending to do?~

      ~A fair question,~ Sari admitted, ~Same as you, I suppose.  I came here thinking I would find him and restore him to Arwen.  And nothing has gone according to plan since.  First of all, it was he who found me, instead of the other way around.  My injuries were getting the best of me and, well, _there he _was, for lack of a better way to say it.  Without his memories, and incredibly, ridiculously happy here.  I decided I would stay awhile, and think about what next to do.  Besides, I found I did not have the courage to allow him out of my sight, in case he should vanish again.  And I had no other way of sending word to you short of leaving myself.~

      ~He also said you were ill,~ Haldir pointed out, looking at Sari, measuring, ~I suppose you could not have traveled either.~

      ~That too,~ Sari said softly, ~But I am well now.  It was the illness that got me staying here long enough to think it through.  I know not what to do with him,~ he laughed sadly, ~I know not what to do with myself.~

      Haldir looked at him sharply.

      ~I am suddenly, strangely bound to this house,~ he said, ~They cared for me, and they are situated here, so unprotected.  They have so little and yet give so much.~

      They paused for a moment, their sharp elven-ears hearing the admittedly discreet footsteps of a new arrival.  Teresa's head peered out from behind the door, and she was bearing two steaming mugs of tea.  She seemed surprised to see Haldir there.

      "Oh hello," she said shyly, "I'm sorry to disturb you."

      "Come out, Teresa," said Sari, "It's all right."

      "I wouldn't want to intrude," she said with a smile, and shoved the mugs their way, some of the liquid spilling over the side, "Sorry.  Tea?"

      "Thank you," Sari smiled at her gratefully, taking the mugs from her hands and giving the other to Haldir.  She excused herself and left, Haldir watching the door after her before turning to look at his friend knowingly.

      ~Bound to this house, are you?~ he asked.

      ~They are all kind,~ Sari said, ~incidentally including her.  She usually sits with me for a few hours when I watch over the house at night.~

      ~Well I sincerely apologize,~ said Haldir wryly, ~_I_ seem to be the intruder after all.~

      ~She's a child,~ Sari said, waving the teasing away, ~I am in love with Arwen.  It is the thought of returning to her that kept me alive for all my centuries of captivity.  It is for this love that I am here, to restore to her who it was that lent her happiness when I could not give it to her.  It is because of this that I could not hate Estel for taking that which was once mine, for he gave more than he took.  He made her smile.~

      ~And what happens when his mind is restored?~ Haldir asked, ~When you both return to the Evenstar?~

      ~I can only act by what I feel is right,~ replied Sari, ~Pay what it is that I owe to Estel.  The rest is Arwen's choice, isn't it? And…~ he paused, hesitant, ~I think I know who it is she wants.~

      Haldir looked at him inquiringly.

      ~The _adan_,~ said Sari softly, ~It is only duty that binds her heart to mine.  She loved me once, and she gave her word to love only me for ever.  But fate has been unkind to us both and that love was long ago and long since passed.  Now that I've returned… the fear I have for Arwen is that she may give away that which makes her truly happy to keep her duties, to keep her word.  I have only that, _mellon_, and no longer her heart, though she is yet to realize it.~

      ~The thought of her kept me alive all these years and gave me hope,~ Sari smiled wistfully, ~I can ask no more of her.  Perhaps it is why I am still here.  I needed to escape her too.~    

* * *

_Rivendell_

_Earlier in 3014_

* * *

      _They could not have been more different at that moment, and yet all at once they were both hopelessly bound to this ridiculous fate that brought them together and yet created a gap between them that spanned an eternity. _

_      One was an elf with all his years and all his wisdom and all his history resting well against him.  One was a man, wiser than his comparatively few years, his history still awaiting him.  Both were great and kind, and both cared for the same woman.  One was a father, the other a lover._

_      They met each other's eyes squarely, each equally turbulent.  Estel searched his father's face for answers that were plain to him from long ago._

_      ~You wish me to leave her be,~ Estel whispered, ~You always have.  And now _he_ is back and it can come true at last.~_

_      ~I love you both, Estel, you know this,~ Elrond said fervently, ~But what she gives to you no father should have to see his child lose.~_

_      ~I love her,~ Estel said plainly, as if it was reason enough for all that they would have to go through.  Perhaps it was true.  Perhaps not.  _

_      ~I know,~ said Elrond, ~I do not doubt.  I _cannot_ doubt that, for I am not so blind I cannot see you give much just to be hers.  But Estel… Estel… I will lose you one day, this is a certainty.  The son of my heart _will_ die.  And I cannot bear to lose her too.~_

_      ~But there will be a Haven,~ argued Estel, ~One beyond this.  One where we will all see each other again.~_

_      ~The roads of elves and men are headed different ways,~ said Elrond, ~It always was meant to be like this.  If you will not do this for me, then do it for her.  You will pass before her and she will live and breathe to feel that ache in every fiber of her being until she herself wastes away.~_

_      ~If one can cease to love when it guarantees hardship,~ said Estel fervently, ~Then we'd both have stopped years ago.~_

_      ~If one _cannot_ cease to love,~ Elrond pointed out, ~Then she would not have had the heart to love you, for it would have remained with Sari.~_

_      Estel turned away from the elf he had long regarded as a father, stung and bitter and worse, helpless._

_      ~Estel,~ said Elrond softly, laying a hand upon his adopted son's shoulder, ~One can always love again.  And one can always love another.  She is in good hands with Sari.~_

_      Estel looked up at him, and his hardy eyes shone with all the might of all the tears he strove to keep._

_      ~I love you, _ada_,~__ he said quietly, ~And I love Arwen.  I never meant to give any of you any grief.  Now I must leave, for not only can I no longer find peace in Imladris, but I also put a blight upon its days.  Goodbye, _ada_.  And you will be the one to tell her goodbye for me,~ he added with a sad little smile, ~I fear if I did so myself, I would not be as resolute under the force of her eyes.~_

_      He walked away._

_      Elrond let him_.

* * *

      As most escapes went, his did not last for very long at all.

      Pretending to be asleep was one thing, but actually succeeding was another.  Mind wide and rather miserably awake, his heightened senses were alert to any and all movements in and around the house.  He heard whispers of the elven discussion outside, and Teresa's disappointed trudging back to her room.  And he heard the elvish murmurs of the _adan_ dreamer beside him when it came unbidden in the midst of his deep sleep.  

      ~You wish me to leave her be,~ Estel murmured, ~You always have.~

      Legolas turned to face him, his heart pounding furiously as he watched the man toss and turn and mutter in his sleep, walking in his memories.  He felt like an intruder, but he also could not leave.

      ~I never meant to give any of you any grief,~ he muttered, ~I never meant to give any of _them_ any grief!~

      Legolas' brows furrowed, and he held his breath.  _Oh, Estel.  We never really can leave so far from the past, could we?_

      ~All is well,~ Legolas murmured to the man, ~Be at peace, _mellon_.  You are no longer alone.  Not here, and not in your grief.  Though you may not know it.~

      Legolas wanted to believe that it was because of his soothing words that the man calmed.  For a while more he watched Estel sleep.  Maybe it was just a bit of a time.  Perhaps it was more.  Either way he found his eyes could not stray from the other's face.  He felt the need to protect the _adan_, surely.  It has been very long since he had seen Estel in so fragile a state.

      _Then again_, Legolas thought wryly, imagining himself saying this to Estel and the man's eyes would probably light up in laughter, _Perhaps it's just for lack of better things to do.  It's so dreadfully dull here, Estel.  I'm imagining a map of the world by the little scars on your face_.

      Legolas smiled impishly to himself, and wondered if he said it out loud because Estel's eyes suddenly drifted open, and the man smiled at him lazily.

      "You look like you are up to something," he teased, "Did my snoring offend you so much, master elf, that you've put something on my face?"

      "You weren't snoring," Legolas assured him.

      Estel's eyes lit with understanding.  "I see.  Either you find our quarters uncomfortable, or I've been keeping people awake with my noisy dreaming again."

      "A bit of both," Legolas admitted, "But mostly I just could not sleep.  My mind was wide awake."

      "Well," said Estel, "I certainly slept well.  I am sorry about the sleep-muttering, I truly am.  I did not even know it, until Damien told me," Estel glanced at the sleeping old man a mat away, "He's used to it by now, I suppose.  You will be too."

      "Of what do you dream?" Legolas asked him.

      "I can't remember," Estel said gathering his feet, "Damien says it is just some gibberish he could not understand," he stretched indulgently, trying to change the subject, "At least I woke up to take over the watch."

      Legolas would not be derailed.  Damien, or anyone else from this far back-country would not have recognized the Elvish.  But Estel, completely forgetting, even as he dreamt? Even as he spoke? Details of dreams flew from the mind, yes.  But not the feelings.  They lingered, even if you did not know why.

      "You cannot remember?" Legolas pressed him.

      Estel averted his eyes, "All I remember, is that I'm sure it would hurt to remember even more."

      Legolas watched him leave, and itched to follow.  But some strange force kept him back, and he simply held his place on the mat.  It was the first time since Legolas found Estel that he really and willingly let the man leave his sight.  

      He did not know it then, but it was as if he was trying to get accustomed to the feeling of letting him go.

      The night was painfully quiet now.

TO BE CONTINUED…


	9. Chapter 9

Author: Mirrordance

Title: Escape

Summary: Aragorn is lost during a tour with the Rangers, and Legolas later finds him in Bree, without his memories & happily relieved of all his noble burdens, making the elf hesitate to bring him back to who he truly was.

* * *

PART NINE

* * *

      Legolas found that the days seemed infinitely long here, and it rushed for nothing and no one.  It's as if the world and its evils were a distant dream, and life flowed moment by moment.  It all went on and on forever and ever, and he's only been staying a little while!

      It was undoubtedly the quietest non-adventure he's ever had with Estel (_perhaps this is because he is actually with non-Estel_), and there was just so little to do.  Time was slowing itself down again, and he was beginning to believe he really was going to live forever.  They _all_ were at the rate things were going here.

      Which wasn't altogether a bad thing, he realized.  

      _I no longer count days, Estel_, he thought to himself, _Perhaps this is not such a bad place to be in after all.  Not for you, and not for me._

      He spent the mornings hunting game with Estel and Haldir for the entire household to have meat to eat.  The afternoons he spent tending a piteous garden that somehow managed to survive in front of the house.  Sari and Teresa managed the kitchens.  Damien and Biggles kept the children occupied with games, while Estel taught them literature and numbers later in the day.  Haldir would help in the education, and though he seemed to do it begrudgingly, there was some ill-concealed appreciation in his eyes when the children understood him.  And then there was Queen Cecilia generally keeping to herself, scrawling some strange new story for the Company to produce.  Legolas would hear her mutter once in awhile, as if she was trying to find the right words and needed to hear it out loud.

      During the nights, the men of the household took shifts of watching to ensure everyone's safety.  And though the house was distant from the other human settlements in the area, it mostly remained undisturbed by dark, dangerous forces.

      One of these said nights, Legolas sat upon the house's wooden porch, sipping Teresa's tea.  He sensed the girl had a partiality for Sari, but took to giving all the night-watchers tea and occasional company anyway.

      Subtle creaking from inside the house brought to his attention the arrival of one he did not expect to want to accompany him on his watch, however.

      He looked up at Cecilia uncertainly, "Good evening."

      She gave him a curt nod, and seemed torn over whether she would sit with him or stay standing by the doorway.  Pursing her lips, she came to a decision and stepped forward, sitting beside him.

      "You know who he is," said Cecilia, her voice soft but her tone harsh, "And I knew it the very moment I saw your face that night in Bree.  But I guarantee you, whoever he used to be, it is all changed now.  He belongs with us."

      Legolas' jaws set.  He took a deep breath.  "Since we are no longer mincing words, madam.  With all due respect to you and all the good that you are trying to do here, but, you ought to know.  For that man much greater things are meant than this.  You do not know who he is."

      "And I care not," Cecilia snapped, "He is ours now.  Finders keepers.  We need him, desperately.  He can keep us alive and safe.  But mostly because we love him.  And he desires to stay.  So he has a right to."

      "He knows not what he desires," Legolas seethed, "He does not even know his own name!"

      "He knows enough," argued Cecilia.

      "Hardly!" scoffed Legolas, "_He_ knows nothing.  And _you_ know nothing."

      She stared at him, measuring.  There was curiosity now in those sharp eyes.  And yet her pride was so fierce she bit her tongue and stopped short of asking precisely what it was she ought to know about their dear Dalsegno.  Or perhaps it was her fear that held her back.  She feared to know.  She feared any reason there was to let go of that loveable and all at once insufferable man.

      "He is ours," Cecilia said, struggling to keep control of her voice, "We are all happy here.  Be gone.  Or if you must stay, do not play dirty and remind him of his past.  'Tis not merely that wound on his head that makes him forget.  'Tis the greater one in his heart.  I do not know what it is, but I know it is there.  I know with my mother's heart.  I heard his mutterings at night and though I cannot understand the words, his pain is clearly marked.  Leave him be.  He needs us.  And we need him."  

      "_We_ need him _more_," insisted Legolas, "Can you not understand that he owns a life before this? A life _beyond_ this.  A life accompanied by responsibilities, and a particular fate? You have no right to rob him of this.  Or rob those to whom he has always belonged with."

      _Including me…_

      "And besides," Legolas continued, "I do not need your permission to do as I please or know to be necessary.  I _will _eventually tell him all the things that he needs to hear.  But I know, _I know _that he will not go without your leave and he most certainly will not go with all those tears I now see lodged stubbornly in your eyes.  But you must let him, madam.  He must be released. And you in turn would never again have to fear for the safety of all those that you shelter here, I promise you.  You have unwittingly courted a bevy of powerful friends.  But he, _he_ must remember.  And in remembering, he must leave."

      "He is happy here," Cecilia said stubbornly, "_You_ have no right to rob him of _this_.  And you have no right to defy me in my own house."

      "I did not cast the cards of this fate," said Legolas, "Nor do I wish to be the bearer of your grief.  But this is a role that needs playing, and this is the one that has been given to me."

      They fell to an uneasy silence for a breath, a moment.  She seemed to be thinking of the things he had said.

      "Who is he, elf?" Cecilia said softly, looking away from Legolas, "I lied.  I do care.  And if you must shatter this paradise for us than I should at least be entitled to knowing why."

      "It's not my tale to tell," Legolas admitted, "Suffice it to say he will save all of mankind one day.  Is this reason enough for you?"

      "No," she confessed, shaking her head, "Life is too short to think of such things, master elf.  All I know is what is now.  You say that for him much greater things are meant.  But he is happy here, he is loved here, and of joy and loving there are no greater things.  If one man cannot be happy, I know not what it is you are all trying to save.  The world shall move as it ultimately will.  But let him have his peace.  This is one man who has already given more than enough, by the light he has brought to my days, and the days of all who live here.  Let _us_ have our peace."

      It was his turn to fall silent.  He weighed her words, and began to doubt.  But time would speed up once more, and the life beyond the peace and isolation of this house would shake it again, in a way that was more dangerous than the troubles of a weary heart.

      "Go back inside," Legolas told the old woman.

      "I will not be dismissed—" she said, thinking he was offended by what he heard and was sending her away.  His warm hand upon her mouth cut off her words.

      "Orcs," he said softly, and her eyes widened in sudden realization.  He set his hand down and made ready his bow, gathering his feet and pulling her up to stand with him.  "Inside the house if you please."

      "I've long since defended this house without you," she whispered harshly, "I can fight them."

      "Cecilia," Estel said, appearing by the door, flanked by Sari, Haldir, Teresa, Damien and Biggles.  Legolas knew it was only a matter of time before the other elves of the household sensed the intruders nearby and summoned the other warriors (or in the case of Damien and Biggles, the semi-warriors).

      "Watch the children," Estel told the stubborn old woman, knowing that if there was one order she would obey, it was this.

      Cecilia looked at him with burning eyes, but she nodded and pulled Teresa with her.  The two women vanished into the house and separated at the doors to the two children's rooms.

      "They are not too near," Legolas told the others quietly, "Perhaps they will pass us by."

      "They often just do," said Sari, "But their steps seem urgent.  And… and many."

      "They chase after something," Haldir deduced, "The steps come ever closer."

      "They must not sight the house," Estel said determinedly, "For they pillage and burn all that come across their path."

      "We face them under the trees," Legolas concluded, eyeing the _adan_ and wondering if he was in any shape to fight.  Curiously, Legolas also noted that Estel's trusty sword was not with him.  He was holding a rusted old pitchfork obviously commandeered from the stables.  Such a tool was lethal in the hands of a skilled warrior, of course, but that blade was practically a part of Estel's hand and its absence was potent.  It grabbed Legolas' attention almost as much as Haldir's was fixated with the butcher's knife Biggles was holding.

      "You will not use that for dinner, will you?" Haldir asked, trying to diffuse the youth's obviously frayed nerves.

      "I'll clean it afterwards," Biggles said quickly.

      "I'll never eat here again," Haldir declared.

      Damien, on the other hand, was holding a long, slim stick fashioned from near-black wood.  He was quiet and painfully shy, but the pressing danger seemed to send fire coursing through his veins and flashing from his eyes.  The awkward actor had some skill to him yet, Legolas guessed.  They were not very badly short-handed after all.  But as it was, the strongest of warriors here was Haldir and himself, with Estel and Sari still recovering from their injuries, and the aging Damien and nerve-wrecked Biggles.

      "Estel and Damien with me," Legolas said, "We will go around them and take them from behind."

      "We take the front," Haldir nodded, "Until later, my friends."

TO BE CONTINUED…


	10. Chapter 10

Author: Mirrordance

Title: Escape

Summary: Aragorn is lost during a tour with the Rangers, and Legolas later finds him in Bree, without his memories & happily relieved of all his noble burdens, making the elf hesitate to bring him back to who he truly was.

* * *

PART TEN

* * *

      Legolas, Damien and Estel ran north-east of the house before taking a sharp turn to the west, taking the way around the route of the orcs.  Though Legolas was always more partial to frontal attacks, the greater numbers of the orcs demanded a defense that was stealthier.  Slightly behind him, Estel and the old man kept a respectable pace.

      They ceased when he raised his hand at a signal.  Estel stopped right beside him, hardly winded.

      "We are behind them," Estel guessed, looking down upon the ground where heavy orc-feet obviously trod.  

      "They've slowed down," Legolas whispered, listening to the sounds of the night, "I think they have their prey."

      "At least they will not reach the house," said Damien.

      "But we cannot leave whatever it was that they caught to their notoriously unmerciful mercies," said Estel, "Come.  We move."

      They pressed forward quietly, footsteps soundless, scurrying amidst the trees.

      When at last they sighted _their_ prey, they hung back, and were aghast at what they found.

      The orcs cursed at the pair of human corpses on the ground, and the way their eyes stared unblinking, and their clothes were blackened by their blood, there was no doubting they were dead, and the party arrived much too late.

      One of the corpses was a middle-aged man, the other, a woman.  Between them their clutched arms wound protectively around their child, even in death.  The child was wide-eyed and alive, bloodied and terrified.  A young boy of about six, staring at the murderers of his family.  He was shakily holding his father's rusted dagger before him.

      "Brave child," Damien murmured.

      "We must not let him down," Estel said, eyes now cold as steel and looking as if he was once again completely in possession of himself.  Or perhaps that distinct thirst for justice was unquenched and unfulfilled even by his change of identity, "Where are the others?"

      "They hang back," replied Legolas quietly, "The child is too deeply entrenched in the line of fire.  They can easily ransom him for our surrender.  It will not be very wise to act too rashly."      

      Estel pursed his lips in thought.  "You are from Mirkwood, aren't you, master elf?"

      "What of it?" Legolas asked, seeing a familiar and manic and dangerous gleam n the clever _adan_'s eye.

      "How are you at climbing trees?"

* * *

      ~Oh for the love of all that is good,~ Haldir muttered, his keen eyes sighting Legolas' party from across the way.  About thirty orcs spanned the distance between them, but he clearly saw the Mirkwood elf begin to climb a tree, followed closely by his human counterpart.

      ~The _adan_ is too heavy,~ Sari muttered, just as dismayed, ~They will kill themselves.  Break their necks before they get to where they are going.~ 

      "Are you talking about a plan? I don't understand what you're saying," whispered Biggles, "Have you forgotten I am here?"

      "We are all trying to and desperately failing," retorted Haldir, "Lower your voice, sir, you will give us away."

      The three fell silent.  Apparently, Legolas and Estel planned to move from tree to tree and surprise their captors from above, falling right into the middle of everything in order to keep the child safe.  Haldir deigned from beginning the battle the moment he arrived, finding the parents dead and the sole survivor-- a child, in the midst of everything.  He hadn't thought of a solution.  And he most certainly would not have thought of climbing the trees.  As a matter of fact, he was rather _proud_ not to have thought of it because it assured him he still held some sanity.  

      He sighed, feeling overburdened.  Damien, at least, kept a safe distance behind; probably not very clever with trees-- but ready to provide a solid back-up.  It was one less person to worry about.

      Sari watched with his breath held when a particularly scrawny branch shook over the orcs' heads with the weight of the two mad fools who occupied it.

      The orcs were suddenly alerted, and looked up.

      Beside Sari, Haldir let loose an arrow and sent it wide and flying.  It hit no orc, nor was it meant to.  It thunked resoundingly against a tree east of them, and all the orcs instinctively turned toward the sound.

      It was the moment of distraction that Legolas and Estel needed.  They jumped from the trees with weapons raised, hitting the ground at a crouch and swaying their swords in a coordinated dance, backs against each other.  Estel may not remember Legolas, but his body did, and the lethal dance was graceful and almost easy.

      The orcs converged around them, and Damien and the others took this as an opportunity to enter the battle.  The old man held his own, and even Biggles hacked away at the orcs with surprising luck, if not skill.  Haldir let his bow rest and unleashed his knives, and Sari beside him fought with equal fervor.

      "The child, Biggles!" Sari said to the young man breathlessly.

      Biggles nodded, and stumbled toward the child who was staring at the battle, confused and afraid.

      "You are safe now, boy," Biggles told him, "I know I look right scary with all this orc mess on me, but I promise I will not hurt you."

      The young man slipped the butcher's knife along his belt, and yelped when he accidentally cut at his skin.  

      "Oh you see?" he said, offering the boy a smile, "An orc would not be so stupid, eh? Come now, come with Biggles.  I will take you away from here."

      But the child would not move.  He would not even put down his dagger, unsure of one threat from another.  Behind Biggles, he could hear the battle raging, and the swords of his companions singing.  His exposed back was making him dreadfully nervous, and the possibility of getting skewered made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

      "I'm just as scared as you," he admitted to the boy, "What say _you_ take me away from here?"

      The boy's grip on his dagger wavered, until it fell beside him.  He opened his arms to the portly Biggles, who embraced him and lifted him up.

      "Aren't you supposed to be the one carrying me?" Biggles teased him, turning to face the battle, which was miraculously all but over.

      "Don't you lads work fast," he commented, impressed.

      Haldir glanced at the child, and then at the corpses of his parents.  "Is it hurt?"

      "Tired, more like," Biggles replied, "I'll take him to the house.  We have some water left.  I will give him a bath, give him some food."

      "I will walk with you," Sari offered, "We need to ensure none of the orcs have strayed toward the house.  A few of them escaped, running off.  I suspect they went further north, but just to be sure." 

      Damien looked at the corpses mournfully.  "No child should have this happen to them," he growled, "And yet we have a houseful of all who have faced the same, dire fate.  What a wretched life this is."

      Estel stood beside him, then lowered himself to the ground and took the dagger the child had dropped earlier.

      "Not always," he said quietly, looking at the rusted weapon with respect, "He will want to be reminded of his strength and bravery when he grows older.  A rusted blade against a great foe.  It sounds like a legend."

      Legolas' head shot up.  _Of course it does, Estel_, he thought, _it is _your_ own legend_.  Isildur's broken blade and the rusted dagger of this orphan child.  More and more, it seemed, traces of the man's past were returning to him.

      Estel handed the dagger to Damien, who held it in reverence.  

      "You are tired, my friend," Estel said to him, "Return to the house as well, and make sure they are all safe.  We will take care of the dead."

      Damien hesitated, before nodding and following the direction Sari and Biggles were taking.  The battlefield was a mess, as most went.

      "The stench will reach the house," muttered Legolas, "The corpses must be burned lest we are willing to suffer the stench of their death as much as we have to suffer the stench of their living."

      "There is a clearing not too far away," said Estel, "We can burn them there.  But such a pyre the parents of the boy most certainly will not share."

      "Naturally," said Legolas.

      "The humans first," said Haldir, "Their bodies must not be further desecrated by traces of the orcs.  Traces which we will have to the cracks between our teeth by the time we are done here."

      The three went to work, quickly and quietly.  The boys' parents were buried, and Elvish prayers murmured for them by the pair of elvish warriors.  Estel did not know why, but he felt he understood what they were saying.

      He set this aside as they plunged into working to clear the field of battle, piling the dead orcs in the nearby clearing and setting them aflame.  Though the three were weary and the fire was invitingly warm, they left quickly, and wordlessly all filed towards a nearby river, eager to be rid of the filth of the orcs.

      Haldir sat along the banks of the river and peeled off his bloodied armor and outer tunics.  It is at this time that Legolas noticed there was blood there that did not belong to the orcs.  A jagged wound made its way across the length of the Lothlorien elf's arm.

      "I did not know you were hurt," Legolas said to him, walking towards the river and dipping his bloodied hands into the water, before he stepped towards Haldir with every intention of studying the wound.  Beside him, Estel stood hesitantly, unsure of what to do with himself.  Legolas glanced at him, wondering how much of the healing arts he remembered.  Estel met his fiery gaze and said nothing.

      Legolas sighed, and supposed he himself knew enough for now.  It was just strange not having an Estel whose hands healed and comforted.  It was hardly a niche he felt he could appropriately fill, so cautious with his feelings and with other people had he so long been.

      "You look so apologetic one could almost believe it was you who struck me," Haldir said wryly, allowing himself to be looked over.

      "You should not have worked too much after," Legolas scolded him, "You should have said you were injured.  You could have further aggravated it."

      He winced.  He sounded like Estel.

      "It was hardly a hindrance," Haldir assured him, "And you are one to scold me of foolhardiness.  Why, that incident with the tree was pure idiocy.  But you pulled it off with such aplomb I could not doubt you are used to doing such things."

      Estel laughed, irreverent.  "I think we've just been told in so many words that we are habitually idiotic, Legolas!"

      "They teach their elves the most intricate, elaborate forms of barbs in Lothlorien," Legolas said wryly, "And do not laugh so hard at me, my friend, for I remember very clearly that it was your idea and not mine."

      "But who is the fool?" retorted Estel, "The fool or the fool who follows the fool?"

      "You sure sound like one," laughed Legolas.  

      The three fell to a companionable silence, and took it as a cue to strip down to the lightest of their clothes and head towards the river to wash away the traces of their battle.

      It is at this time that Estel waded away towards a shrub he has seen lining the edge of the water.  He raised up a yellow bloom triumphantly and showed it to his companions, "Teresa taught me to use this to wash clothes.  It smells wonderful, and it handles any and all stains.  Believe me, I've had laundry duty in a house full of children.  This will wash _anything_ away."

      They washed their clothes with the delightful bloom that Estel seemed to regard as a minor miracle.  The orc-blood did come off easily, and the clothes smelled delightfully fresh.  When they were done, the skies over their heads were beginning to light, and they knew the sun would rise in just a few hours.

      In that near-morning light, Estel's eyes drifted to a scar that held a curious place in the middle of Legolas' back.  He reached for it hesitantly, making the elf flinch and instinctively move away.

      "I thought elves healed quickly," he said, "and this doesn't look altogether new to me."

      Legolas looked at the water wistfully, unsure of how to reply.  

      Haldir glanced at the wound, and knew by its fineness that it was not at all one from the blade of some orc.  An elvish blade did that.  And that is also why it must refuse to heal, for it goes beyond skin and flesh, it stains to the soul.  Elves were resilient when it came to physical harm, yes.  But the heart was a fragile thing.  And once again Haldir found himself wondering about the Mirkwood mystery.

      "Some wounds we cannot forget," Legolas said after awhile.

      Estel's hand, as it oft did when he seemed to be remembering things, drifted back up towards the healing scar on his temple.  "It's curious, isn't it? How you have wounds you cannot forget, and I have those I cannot remember."

      Legolas took a deep breath, and smiled at him reassuringly.  "We must get back to the house.  Haldir's wound needs proper tending.  And they might be worried about us."

TO BE CONTINUED…


	11. Chapter 11

Author: Mirrordance

Title: Escape

Summary: Aragorn is lost during a tour with the Rangers, and Legolas later finds him in Bree, without his memories & happily relieved of all his noble burdens, making the elf hesitate to bring him back to who he truly was.

* * *

PART ELEVEN

* * *

      Haldir watched the Mirkwood elf as he worked meticulously in binding the wound on his arm.  The white strips of cloth they sacrificed a blanket for was wound about him in such a compulsively careful way that it lent Haldir some amusement.

      Haldir was seated at the kitchen table, with Legolas' face pressed so near to the wound that the Mirkwood elf's breath tickled his skin.  Legolas' brows were furrowed in great concentration.

      ~This is taking you forever,~ Haldir declared.  

      Legolas glanced up at him, lips quirking to a smile just as he finished the final knot.  ~I am sorry.  I'm not as instinctively good at it as Estel is.  I have to be more careful.~

      ~If this catches on a nail,~ said Haldir, ~And snags and breaks apart, it will shatter my heart to tell you.~

      Legolas smiled, ~Let us hope Estel remembers his healing ways by then, because I have no plans of doing this over.  You know, he really is very good.  Lord Elrond himself taught him, and he's learned other ways in his years with the Rangers.  A shame, really, that I didn't pick up on it very well.~

      ~You do most things well, Prince Legolas,~ Haldir said seriously, averting his eyes from Legolas' surprised ones and studying the binding, ~Even this.  Thank you.~

      Embarrassed at the praise, Legolas simply smiled and stepped back.  ~Well.  There you go.  As Estel would say, ah, do not push yourself too hard.  Where is he, anyway?~

      ~I believe he muttered something about going to sleep,~ Haldir replied, ~I think you are giving him headaches.~

      Legolas winced, ~Oh if he only knew what headaches he gives me.~

      ~It seems they come whenever he is about to remember things,~ said Haldir, ~And I believe our arrival here is stirring up his old ghosts.  Or perhaps, _your_ arrival here.~

      Legolas shook his head, dismayed of the entire situation.  ~He cannot stay here forever.  None of us can, much as we may want to.  It is an illusion.  No more.~

      ~You intend to tell him of his past plainly?~ Haldir inquired.

      ~I don't know,~ Legolas admitted, ~I am thinking I should just wait for him to recall.  But I don't know if we have time to wait.~

      ~That is not all that you are thinking,~ Haldir guessed, reading the dark and sad looked that crossed Legolas' eyes, ~You know as well as I that he must be restored.  Not only for those who love him but for those he can save.  He is the human King.  He must not be left here.~

      ~I know, I know,~ said Legolas, _but knowing doesn't always mean we understand_.  He for one, cannot understand a fate that was so cruel it would take them to all these ridiculous side-trips and thereafter begged them to return from where it was they came.  It all felt so ridiculous, and fruitless.

      It was at this time that Biggles stepped into the kitchen and sat down on the chair in front of Haldir.

      "Oh we are so lucky to have elf-warriors in the fold," the youth said, sighing.

      "I frankly do not know how it is that you've managed to survive without aid for so long," Haldir commented.

      "We barely have," Biggles conceded.

      "You should be closer to the other settlements," Legolas suggested, "To be out here is just madness."

      "Cecilia will not leave," Biggles said, lowering his voice, "And I mean absolutely _never._  She lost her husband and two sons trying to defend this place.  She has paid too much to give it up now.  This is her home.  The grass that grows here was fed by the blood of her family.  The house's rafters and doors, windows and glass, all made by the hands of those she has loved and lost.  She will stay here forever.  And none of us will leave without her."

      Legolas brows furrowed.  And so the woman had a dark past to her too.  She would lose no more sons, this time.  And Estel… _Dalsegno_, was by now regarded not merely as a beloved son but also the protector of the others that she shelters.

      "Where is the child we rescued, by the way?" Haldir asked, "Is it well?"

      "He will not speak," said Biggles, wincing, "He is still wary.  He would not even let me undress and bathe him.  But Teresa is with him now.  She will succeed, she always has."

      Haldir hopped from the table.  "It seems all is well, for now."

      "Sari is taking over the rest of the watch," Biggles yawned, "I don't mind at all.  I'm rather tired."

      "I'll keep Sari company," Legolas offered to Haldir, "Your wound will heal more quickly if you rest more."

      Haldir opened his mouth to argue.  But the unthinking Biggles took him by his bad arm, and the Lothlorien elf winced in pain and bit his lip instead, unhappily suffering the youth who dragged him to their quarters.  Legolas smiled at him cheekily and waved him good night.  The other elf scowled at him as he was led away.

      Shaking his head in amusement, Legolas stepped from the kitchen and began to head toward the front of the house.  He was about to join Sari outside when he heard the elf singing a lullaby.  He lightened his steps and stopped by the door.  Teresa was standing there, one hand to the doorframe and another over her heart, watching the fetching sight of Sari with his arms about the scrawny little boy they aided this night.  The boy was quickly falling asleep, but apparently, Teresa did have a measure of success with him because his still-wet hair and now-clean clothes made him look fresh and wonderfully young.  

      Teresa turned to face Legolas, and her eyes were shining.  There was love there she could no longer hide.  He gave her a slight smile, and excused himself wordlessly, walking back to his quarters and leaving her to that which gave her joy.

      He seemed to be doing that for people a lot lately.

* * *

_Outskirts of Bree_

_Earlier in 3014_

* * *

Life was thrice-damned for all that was kind and good! 

_      Grunting, Strider pulled himself from the ravages of the water, relieved that he survived not only the orc-skirmish, but also the consequent fall, when amidst the fight the ground beneath him and his enemy fell beneath their feet, sending them over a cliff that overlooked a stunning river below.  _

_      Thereafter, not only did he survive the fall (the orc was not has sturdy as he), but also the harshness and cold of the wild water.  Perhaps he was lucky.  But if he was truly lucky, he never should have had to survive any of these._

_      The wildly running water took him into its demanding arms, tossing him here and there, sending him further and further away from the troop of Rangers who were by that time undoubtedly looking for his corpse._

_      Sighing, he sat up on the ground, thinking of his options, soaking wet and miserable.  His body ached, and he was weary from travel, from fighting, from swimming, from running, and walking, and women, and life in general._

_      Gathering his feet, he decided he had to find a way back to his Rangers.  There were things yet to do, and he did not want them to waste his time trying to search for him._

_      He coughed, and swayed a little.  He was beginning to believe that if he did not have this body, he would be _immortal_!_

_      He forced himself along.  His mind was wide awake, he really might as well.  He walked and walked.  At times he would find himself on the ground, though he could not remember stopping, or resting, or falling.  But he pushed himself up and pushed himself forward.  Such was his nature._

_      He somehow felt detached from the world, which came in blur of motion.  It was like a dream, as if he moved without much thought or caution, stumbling, rising, stumbling, walking… It was long and endless, and he often forgot where it was the he was headed._

_      It was along this ridiculously pointless road that he heard a woman curse and scream.  And he sensed the orcs that surely must have threatened her.  Steeling himself for the battle ahead, he picked up his pace and prayed to the gods that he had enough strength to tide himself and the woman over through this storm._

* * *

      Estel opened his eyes to find the Mirkwood elf sitting near his leg, just beginning to settle in for sleep.  Legolas seemed to notice the man's gaze affixed to his back, and he turned and faced him.

      "I'm sorry," Legolas said, his voice melodious, "Did I wake you?"

      Estel smiled, shook his head and pushed himself up to his elbows.  "You sleep with your eyes open."

      "Aye," Legolas said, looking puzzled, wondering where this was possibly headed but smiling back anyways.

      "What do you see?" Estel asked.

      "Elven dreams can be very beautiful," Legolas told him, "Of wonderful stunning places, and people that we love."

      "Much like _our_ dreams," Estel said, "I mean mostly.  Don't you think some dreams feel like they never end? You awaken and you land in another dream.  And you awaken and land in another.  You aren't sure what's real. You are uncertain of what's true. You cease to live, and you just plunge from one dream to another."

      "I do not know, _mellon_," Legolas told him soothingly, noting distress in his eyes, "Sometimes I want to live in my dreams too.  When it is exceptionally beautiful, it is so hard to wake.  But one must, you see.  And if you are lucky, and if you are hardy, perhaps your hands can shape what's real and turn it into a haven that is not only found in the realm of dreaming."

      Estel's brows furrowed.  "Sometimes I feel like you are trying to tell me more than what your words convey."

      Estel looked at Legolas expectantly.  As he had nights before, the elf kept his silence.

      Estel just smiled, shook his head.  "I'm being silly, I know.  I'm sorry.  It's almost morning.  And you've not slept since your watch began last night.  I'm sorry for keeping you."

      Legolas smiled back, and shrugged.  He sank against his mat.  But he would find no sleep here today.  And he could certainly not find peace, not even in dreaming.

TO BE CONTINUED…


	12. Chapter 12

Author: Mirrordance

Title: Escape

Summary: Aragorn is lost during a tour with the Rangers, and Legolas later finds him in Bree, without his memories & happily relieved of all his noble burdens, making the elf hesitate to bring him back to who he truly was.

* * *

PART TWELVE

* * *

      It was late afternoon, a few hours before the sun was to set when Cecilia stepped out of her room clutching a sheaf of papers.  She walked down the halls of her house, glancing at the rooms she passed.  

      The children's bedrooms were empty as they oft were in these hours.  They were all in the common room with Estel, who was in the middle of telling them a story.  He glanced up at her arrival and his brows raised, wordlessly asking her if she needed anything.  She shook her head and left, and found Sari and Teresa in the kitchen, beginning the evening meal.  She stepped out of the house, glanced left and right.  Damien and Biggles were tending the horses and cleaning the stables.  The elf Haldir was doing exercises with his swords, testing his might even under injury.  Her eyes at last fell to Legolas, who was crouched on the ground and tending to her barely surviving garden.  They were now showing a promise she had not seen in a long time.  Frowning slightly, she stepped forward towards him.

      He felt her coming as he always did, and he looked up at her and greeted her with an uncertain smile.

      "I hope you don't mind," he said, "I thought perhaps, I could do something with them."

      She shook her head, and crouched down beside him.  He felt uncomfortable, especially given their last exchange.  And so he spoke of lighter things.

      "These will grow strong," he promised her, "And would need little minding," he pointed to an area of the garden, "in a few weeks you will see the first of the blooms there.  They will be yellow.  And then the violets would grow next.  I know they are not as functional, but I'm not as good with vegetables and fruits, and—"

      She waved away his concerns, insisting, "It's good, it's good."

      He dusted his hands on his clothes and pulled himself up.  He offered her his hand, and she took it, rising to her own feet.

      "What can I do for you?" he asked her.

      She raised her sheaf of papers, and he could see her furious scrawls and what was undoubtedly the next production of the Bree-folk Company of Actors.

      "I'm not acting for you," he guaranteed her quickly.

      Her thin lips curved to a smile.  "I didn't think so.  But I need your help.  You know, the forest keeps us fed and the river keeps us from being thirsty.  But the plays give us gold and silver to trade for weapons, for clothes, for oil, for tools and horses.  I have to keep it going.  And I want to be taken more seriously.  So I'd be paid more seriously, you get my meaning?"

      "Yes," Legolas said, "What of it?"

      "I want to slip in snippets of elvish," she replied, "To make it sound more… exotic.  More real.  You will help me."

      Legolas frowned.  'Real' was hardly how he would describe the last production of the struggling group.  

      She scowled at him.  "That's not very polite of you.  And I was just thinking your mother, she brought you up right."

      Legolas chuckled, surprised, knowing her mother up in the halls of Mandos would have found it funny too.  She had such kindness and humor.  And so for the sake of his mother, he would in turn, indulge the old woman.

      "What is it going to be about?" Legolas asked.

      "It's a drama," Cecilia told him.

      "Was the last one a drama too?' Legolas asked tactfully, trying to keep a straight face.

      "No!" she retorted, offended.

      He blinked at her innocently.

      "It's about an elf-man," she told him excitedly, and Legolas thinks he has found the stern woman's weakness at last, "fallen in love with a mortal woman.  A _noble_ elf man too.  So.  They cannot be together.  It's a tragedy.  A love-suicide.  We will have the crowds weeping!"

      "That depends," Legolas told her wryly, "If Damien will be taking the stage or not.  And if you will continue having carrots for ears."

      She looked at him flatly.  "Oh you have a mouth on you."

      He smiled at her.  She smiled back.

      "Why can't they be together?" Legolas asked her, wondering what she was thinking.

      "It's not the way of things," she said simply, "Their paths diverge.  In life, as well as in death.  It is only pain and heartache."

      "Doesn't all love entail pain and heartache in some way?" Legolas argued, "Surely it is not excuse enough."

      She looked at him thoughtfully, and promised him she would give it more thought.

* * *

      The next evening, the Bree-folk Company of Actors was in the common room.  Haldir thought, rather wryly, that it must have included him now, for he somehow turned out to be their prop master by default.  Cecilia spent the day tossing out assignments, and she told the 'uncooperative' elves that everyone in the house had to earn their keep.  

      "This is ridiculous," Estel had said, holding out a pair of carrots, one much longer than the other, "We have a house overrun with elves and I still have to wear these."

      Haldir reached for the longer carrot and chopped off the end with his dagger and handed the 'ear' back to him.  Estel smiled sourly.  Cecilia watched them for a moment, then gave Haldir several more carrots to take care of.  And the props have not stopped coming since.

      "Would you by any chance lend me that intricate blade of yours, Haldir?" Biggles asked.  He was already wearing his carrot ears.

      "These do not leave my arm's reach," Haldir told him, "I'm sorry.  And…" he seemed to be searching for the right words to say, "You know, there are no portly elves.  There never has been."  

      "If you will not play," Cecilia snapped at him, "I will not suffer your complaints.  And your kin can stand the misrepresentation."

      Sari laughed shamelessly.

      "So what's the story?" Teresa asked Cecilia excitedly.  They were surrounded by children who were just as excited.  Apparently, it was tradition in the house for Cecilia to tell the story in front of the children before it was performed anywhere else.

      "Dalsegno is the son of an elf-lord," she began, and when Estel stood tall and straight and pumped at his chest, the children laughed.

      "He is tall, and handsome, and brave and noble," Cecilia continued, "But like all heroes, he was flawed in one way: he could not love."

      "Why not?" Estel asked.

      "All the elf-women wanted him," Cecilia continued, "All the families approved of him.  But he wanted nothing and no one.  A hideous curse was put upon him at birth by an evil wizard whom his father defeated in a raging battle from long ago.  All whom he loves will perish, vowed this evil, evil man, just before he perished.  And because the curse could not be undone, a good wizard took his heart from him, and he could no longer love thereafter."

      "Are you sure that's the work of a good wizard?" Allan asked, eyes wide, "I don't think so."

      "He meant well," Cecilia replied, "The noble elf's heart was put in ice and cast away, and hidden in the furthest corners of Middle-Earth.  Through the centuries it was forgotten.  But a mortal woman found it.  And gave it life.  Suddenly, the elf felt a strange thirst that the havens of his land could not quench.  He felt a hunger that could not be satisfied.  An emptiness that ached to be filled.  His heart was calling.  And he was going to it."

      "Is he going to fall in love with her?" Biggles asked, "When he finds it, I mean? He is, I bet."

      "But she's going to die!" one of the children pointed out.

      "Maybe he just wants it back," said another, "he isn't really going to use it."

      "Of course he'll use it," retorted Biggles, "that's why it's a tragedy.  Someone will die."

      "It's a tragedy?" the child asked, wide-eyed.

      "So he does find her," Cecilia continued, after battles and a long quest.  "He knows what his love costs, so though he found his heart, he crushed it and tossed it away.  But the evil wizard was cunning.  Anyone can love with or without their hearts, and the elf loved her with the whole of his being and the whole of his soul.  Sacrificing his heart to save her life was love too, and she dies anyway.  But she dies with joy in her heart, because it is through this that she discovers he loved her after all."

      A hush fell in the room.

      "Well it's sad, isn't it?" Biggles sniffed.

      "I think they should be together," Teresa argued.

      "But they had love enough," said Cecilia, "short as it was.  The mortal woman was bound to die anyway, for such is her fate.  It was bound to end."

      "But not so soon," insisted Teresa, "They didn't even have children, or… or… a house."

      All in the room were quiet as they looked at her, and her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.  She concluded her argument in incomprehensible muttering.

      "Should they be together?" Cecilia asked the crowd in general.

      "Yes," Sari said, and his cheeks flushed too.  He lowered his head, but the irrepressibly sharp eyes of Haldir caught it cleanly.  He almost laughed; the spirit desired to lie but was a slave to the traitorous body.

      "Maybe another wizard comes along to resurrect her," Biggles suggested, nodding enthusiastically.

      "He should have just grabbed his heart and left," grumbled Estel.

      Legolas head shot up to look at the _adan_.  His hand was to his temple again, and Legolas knew that Arwen was making herself felt.  

      _You can only escape so long, mellon_.

      Estel sensed the elf's stare and met his eyes evenly.  Lodged there was a strange anger there that Legolas could not understand.

      "Excuse me," Estel muttered, making his way out of the room, barely noticeable since a new debate had been opened and _everyone_ had to have his say.  Legolas walked after him.

* * *

      Estel turned towards the elf angrily, the moment the two of them reached the porch of the house, and no one else was near.

      "Why are you following me?" Estel demanded, "_Stop_ following me."

      Legolas held his ground, several steps away from the man.  It was glaringly obvious to him, although it might not be to Estel, that the man was referring to far more than this night.

      "Why are you so angry?" Stung, Legolas found he had little else to say.  And so he held his silence, and his distance.

      Estel's shaking hands snaked through his hair, and his eyes shook with tears he could not explain, "I do not… I… Ever since you came here.  I've been so confused.  I'm suddenly unsure.  All was well until you happened by.  All was well."

      Estel raised his eyes to the elf's, whose gaze was fiery with paralyzed indecision, and a deep, gnawing hurt.

      "I'm sorry," he said quickly, quietly, "I'm so sorry.  I do not know what came over me.  I do not know…" he searched for the right word, "… much.  I find I do not know much at all.  It's taxing.  And it gives me fear.  And," he tried a strained smile, "and apparently it makes me a little crazy too."

      But Legolas could not find it in himself to pretend anymore.  No more smiling.  No more dismissals of questions he did not have the strength to answer.  No more indecision.  No more illusions.

      "I'm sorry," Estel said again.

      "It's all right," murmured Legolas, "I… I had to leave anyway."

      "I didn't mean any of those things," Estel insisted.

      _Yes, you did_, Legolas knew, but he found no inclination to argue.  This was all ending.  It was a dream.  And he was waking in a most harsh way.

      "And I most certainly do not want you to leave," Estel continued, "I was just… expressing my frustrations.  Do you know what I mean?" he groaned, and slapped his face with his hand, "Oh how can you know what I mean, I do not even know what I mean."

      Estel sighed.  "Legolas," he scrambled for the words, "I have a feeling you want something of me.  Yet I find I do not have the heart to give it.  And if you were truly kind, you will not ask it of me."

      Legolas looked at him intently, and recalled what it was Cecilia had said just days ago:

_      "You say that for him much greater things are meant.  But he is happy here, he is loved here, and of joy and loving there are no greater things.  If one man cannot be happy, I know not what it is you are all trying to save.  The world shall move as it ultimately will.  But let him have his peace.  This is one man who has already given more than enough, by the light he has brought to my days, and the days of all who live here.  Let us have our peace."_

      Legolas nodded at Estel, though mostly it was for himself.  He came to a decision.  He will leave at first light.

      "I will leave at first light," Legolas repeated out loud.  

      "Do not leave on my account," Estel pleaded, "I'm sorry! It was foolish, I was thinking of some other thing—"

      "I've lingered here too long," Legolas told him, "I was expected back home long ago.  It is just as well.  Really, do not feel any of this was caused by your words.  They only fueled things that have long been making demands of me.  I must leave."

      Estel stared at him, hesitant.  "Well.  If you are truly needed back home…"

      "There are things I must do," Legolas said, "And… well, so do you.  They will be looking for you inside."

      Estel took a deep breath, and offered him a smile.  Though he looked regretful for the harshness of his words, there was also relief there that sent a knife through Legolas' heart.  Estel was relieved that he was going.  Estel wanted him gone.

      Legolas told the _adan_he had to leave, but in truth he felt as if he was the one being left behind.  

      Estel tilted his head thoughtfully at the elf, still smiling uncertainly.  There was still an acute loss here that was not missed by his perceptive mind, even as clouded as it presently was, and it was a curious contradiction to the relief that was sending waves of joy through him.  Sadness and joy, inextricably, incomprehensibly mixed.

      Estel turned towards the door, but paused and told the elf he sorely regretted he was leaving, for he felt as if they had long known each other.

      "Though that's not possible, is it?" Estel concluded.

      "No it's not," Legolas lied, finding one last untruth in himself, smiling at the human reassuringly.  

      "We shouldn't have kept you for very long," Estel told him, reaching for his shoulder, "We all have places to go after all."

      There was a certain finality to it, and though the human said "I'll see you in the morning" afterwards, it sounded belated, as if it were only an afterthought, a polite and diplomatic goodbye, another comfortable lie in a situation already hopelessly compounded with them.  

      _We all have places to go_.

      And Estel, though he now at last found his home here, still had a journey of his own to make—to live out the rest of his now ridiculously happy life.  And it was a profoundly aching thought that not only was Legolas _not_ a part of it, he was not even _welcome_.  He was the storm that would tear it to shreds, literally and figuratively the bitter reminder of everything the man had left behind.  Legolas would break it apart by his very presence.  He would be the one to shatter all of this life's most careful, most elaborate and most comforting illusions.

      Well.  Perhaps not.  He was leaving.

      _Though I am the one being left behind_.

      _The night was painfully quiet _again.  And Legolas felt there would be many more nights like this in the future.

TO BE CONTINUED…__


	13. Chapter 13

Author: Mirrordance

Title: Escape

Summary: Aragorn is lost during a tour with the Rangers, and Legolas later finds him in Bree, without his memories & happily relieved of all his noble burdens, making the elf hesitate to bring him back to who he truly was.

* * *

  


PART THIRTEEN

* * *

  


      Legolas did not sleep that night.

      Then again, he did not sleep very well here. 

      He was awake when the night shifts changed hands from one man to another.  He was awake when his turn came.  He was awake when the first light of the morning crept from the East at last. 

      He sat up carefully, slowly, so as not to awaken his companions.  Biggles could not wake up any sooner than until he is shaken and screamed at to save his life, of course, but the others were relatively light sleepers, and he had to be careful if he wanted to just disappear.  The problem, of course, laid with Sari who was at the last leg of the night watch.  The elf would be by the door.  He will have questions.  But will also understand flight and escape, and he will let Legolas pass without incident, surely.

      _Or at least, I hope so_.

      ~I wondered when you would tire of pretending to be asleep.~

      Legolas' head whipped around to face the Lothlorien elf, who was cockily staring at him from his place on the mat.  Haldir pushed himself up to his elbows, and his golden hair was fanned about him in indulgent wisps that seemed invulnerable to the ravages of lying down.  It caught the first lights of the sunrise, and seemed even more golden and beautiful.  Legolas thought, wryly, that it was only Haldir who could still look regal on a battered mat on an even more battered floor with a plump, snoring human nearby.

      ~I wish you had been kinder,~ Legolas murmured, ~And let me know you were aware of my pretensions and perhaps I wouldn't have wasted the entire night bothering with the farce.~

      Haldir looked at him wryly and shrugged.  But his keen eyes were looking over the other elf intently.

      ~You were leaving me here in this forsaken place,~ he said flatly, ~That is far more unkind.~

      ~Oh admit it,~ Legolas teased him quietly as he gathered his things, ~You like it here.~

      ~It has its own quant charm,~ Haldir conceded, ~But I am hardly in my element.~

      ~You're always in your element,~ Legolas said, looking up from his packing and offering the other a smile.

      ~I get the feeling I am being dismissed,~ Haldir commented.

      Legolas shook his head as he closed his pack, and he looked around to see if there was anything he may have forgotten.  ~You are most certainly not being dismissed, _mellon_.  I just do not want you to have to be burdened with leaving along with me.  You will try to be noble about it, and lend me your company.  But I will have none of that.  Stay if you desire.  I know some part of you does.  I know some part of _me_does.  But I cannot stay.  You can.  I will see you some other time.~

      Haldir's eyes narrowed at him in thought, and in irritation.

      ~All right,~ the Lothlorien elf sighed.  He raised his hand out for Legolas to shake.  ~Until we meet again.~

      Legolas smiled and reached forward.

      Haldir grabbed the Mirkwood elf's hand in a sudden blur of motion, and pulled himself up to his feet.  Legolas bit his lip to keep from yelping, and barely managed to keep his balance and falling on Biggles.

      ~Good trick,~ Legolas muttered.

      Haldir shrugged at him, and began packing his own things.

      ~Haldir,~ Legolas said, gripping the other elf's shoulder and willing to be looked at, ~I am serious.  You needn't.~

      Haldir stared at him.  ~I know.  But it doesn't matter.  They are all well and dandy here.  You, on the other hand, are being a fool.  Do you know that with the grief in your eyes I find you more needy than the hideously forgetful _adan_and the still-ill Lothlorien elf here?~

      ~I'll get over it,~ Legolas assured him wryly.

      ~You know,~ Haldir said softly, ~I've always regarded the _edain_as weaker than us.  But I am finding we are about the same, and it is just our weaknesses that differ.  They are slaves to their bodies, you see.  But you and I, we can die of a broken heart.  They are sturdier than I once thought.  And we, on the other hand, are not as strong after all.~

      ~I will not die of it,~ Legolas assured him, ~My heart has long been tossed around and thrown asunder by a past you only know remotely of.  But I've endured.~

      _Much as I have occasionally regretted it…_

      ~I still will.~

      Haldir stared at him, measuring.  ~I do not give a care.  Or that's wrong.  I do.  But my mind is made.  I do not do things halfway.  I will not leave you alone.  That is the end of it.~

      ~I'm beginning to come to that conclusion,~ Legolas said.

      ~Frankly, I think you are making a mistake,~ said Haldir, ~Estel should not be left to waste away here, happy as they all may be.  A dreadful mistake this is, Legolas.~

      ~It will not be my first,~ said Legolas uneasily, glancing at Estel's back, which was turned away from the pair of them as he slept, ~He's made up his mind, Haldir.  I always thought, how could one make up his mind if he is not fully in possession of it? But he all but told me to leave, Haldir.  He may not know all, but he certainly knows enough to come to his own decisions.  I have no right to wrest it from him.~

      ~Estel staying here,~ murmured Haldir, ~It is like music sung to an empty house.  There is something inalienably beautiful about it, something undeniably true.  But it will be heard by no one.  Your leaving is selfish.  You've foregone your own decisions, in fear of hurting him.  In fear of him despising you.  It is irresponsible.  It is idiocy.  But I will abide by your wishes.  If I cannot save you from your mistakes, I will stand by you to face its consequences.~ 

      ~I've lived alone for centuries needing no one,~ Legolas retorted, ~I will not be some pity-case of yours, Haldir.  If you think this is so wrong than go and do something about it.  I care not.  I am all but gone from here.~

      ~It's not pity,~ Haldir told him wryly, willing to coax a smile out of him, ~It's called damage control.  Repairs.  Your head is lacking some faculties that normally characterize the sane.~

      ~I suppose you consider yourself a shining example of normalcy and sanity,~ said Legolas struggling to be stern, though his lips were already shaking.

      ~Of course,~ Haldir boasted, glancing out the window as he slipped on his pack, ~Well, my friend.  The sun is up.  The road calls.  But perhaps you will change your mind…?~

      ~No,~ said Legolas determinedly, ~I've never been one to do things halfway too, Haldir.  I will leave them in peace.~

      ~All right,~ Haldir said.  The pair of them headed for the door.  But Haldir stopped by the frames and glanced at the back of a 'sleeping' Estel.  He knew that he and Legolas weren't the only ones awake all night.  He knew the conversation was heard.  But he didn't know if they were understood.  But he didn't know if the _adan_would do anything about it.

      _Turn and face us_, Haldir thought fervently, _If__you are half the man we thought you were, turn and face us.  Turn and face who you are.  Do not let him leave.  No more cowering.  No more hiding here.  No more escaping.    _

      Estel did not move.  Haldir turned away, disappointed.

      Elven feet were light, almost soundless.  And Estel didn't think his ears were sharp enough that he heard the discrete steps vanish off into the distance.  But their presence was so potent he knew the moment they were gone.  He didn't understand it, but tears streaked from his eyes.

* * *

  


      Sari felt their approach before he saw them.

      He turned to face Haldir and Legolas, dressed to leave and bearing all of their things.  His composed face showed a measure of surprise.

      ~Duty presses us to leave,~ Legolas murmured.

      ~I do not doubt it,~ said Sari, looking at Haldir questioningly.

      ~Take care, Sari,~ Legolas said, grasping the other elf's arm, ~You seem to be recovering well.  I will see you… whenever.  Life is long.  I'm sure we'll come across each other again.~

      ~I'm sure,~ said Sari uncertainly, offering Legolas a reassuring smile, ~Be safe.~

      Legolas nodded, and glanced at Haldir who seemed rooted to where he stood.  ~I will prepare the horses,~ he said, excusing himself and heading towards the stables.

      ~No tricks now,~ Haldir called after him, ~No leaving me behind, Legolas.  I intend to make my goodbyes here, and it would be embarrassing to find I've suddenly been left behind.~

      Legolas threw him a helpless smile over his shoulder, and turned his back on the pair of old friends.

      ~He is lucky to have you,~ Sari observed.

      ~He doesn't think so,~ Haldir said wryly, ~Pompous prince believes he needs no one.~

      ~A lot like you,~ Sari pointed out.

      ~It's strange,~ Haldir said, taking a more serious tone, ~I went here in search of a friend, traveling with a murderer.  I lost the murderer, found the friend and lost it too, but made another.  Isn't life confusing?~

      Sari patted Haldir on the shoulder.  ~You're not losing me, Haldir.  We never lose friends.  They pile up, even if we should part.  I'd hate to ruin your day, but I'm pressed to say you are very unfortunately stuck with me.~

      ~_They_are even more stuck with you,~ Haldir said, nodding to the house, ~Will you marry her? Will I be invited? The things that go on in this ridiculous house.~

      Sari's cheeks flushed.  ~Nothing is certain.~

      ~I'm certain about the red of your cheeks,~ Haldir teased, ~Really, Sari.  How embarrassing.  Pull yourself together.~

      Sari laughed.  ~It will not be a party without you.~

      ~Good,~ Haldir nodded.  He glanced up, just as Legolas emerged from the stables with their horses.

      ~Arwen,~ said Sari hesitantly, ~She will wonder.  But her heart will know she and I were not meant to be together after all.  I wish you told me you intended to leave.  I'd have written her a letter, or… or some such thing.  In the meantime, tell her she kept me alive.  And… and…~

      Haldir's lips quirked, ~You find yourself saddled with two betrothed.  If only we were all as lucky.  I'm sure it is a predicament she will _completely_understand.~

      ~On second thought,~ said Sari, ~Keep your clever mouth shut.  And I will find a way to tell her things myself.~    

      ~Well,~ said Haldir, laughing, ~As you wish.  In the meantime, take care.  I will speak with the Lady Galadriel about sending troops here.  Nothing intrusive.  The house will never even know they are about.  But you will all be safe.  I'm sure Lord Elrond, he will arrange for this too.~

      Sari reached forward and embraced Haldir, ~Farewell, Haldir.  I will see you… what was it Legolas said? I will see you… whenever.~

      Haldir smiled at Sari sadly.  ~It sounds distant.  And yet I find it fair.  Until then, _mellon_.~

TO BE CONTINUED…


	14. Chapter 14

Author: Mirrordance

Title: Escape

Summary: Aragorn is lost during a tour with the Rangers, and Legolas later finds him in Bree, without his memories & happily relieved of all his noble burdens, making the elf hesitate to bring him back to who he truly was.

* * *

PART FOURTEEN

* * *

      There were a lot of differences between a journey headed towards a place and the journey leaving it.  It was, in all fairness, theoretically the same road traversed, if only just facing in different directions.  But the journey leaving… the packs were heavier than they were when you first set out.  Both literally and figuratively, you took home more.  Legolas was learning this wasn't necessarily a good thing.  

      _Well it seldom ever is…_

      And when it was light, the sun was too bright.  But when night struck, it was also too dark.  Nothing was right, and there was a detachment that seemed to alienate the weary traveler.

      _Or maybe it is just my foul mood_.

      ~Haldir,~ asked Legolas, looking about him at the dark skies, ~How long has it been since we set out?~

      ~Just a few hours,~ replied the other elf, ~At this lazy, leisurely pace you keep, I am hardly surprised you think we have been going on and on forever.~

      ~Why must I rush?~ sighed Legolas, ~Away is away.  We'll get to wherever we're going one day.~

      ~If we should move any slower, we will be moving backwards,~ said Haldir dryly, ~Or perhaps is that what you would want?~

      Legolas smiled at him sourly, but otherwise ignored the question.  ~It is so dark for mid-morning.~

      ~I think the winds have shifted,~ said Haldir, ~And a storm comes our way.~

      ~I thought it was perhaps just my dim outlook on life,~ laughed Legolas, ~It turns out to be just my fouler luck after all.~

      ~We make our own luck,~ said Haldir.

      ~Then I cannot for the life of me understand why nothing goes my way,~ said Legolas, smiling in a helpless and resigned way when the first of the rain began to fall.

      ~How in the world did you meet the illustrious _adan_?~ asked Haldir.

      ~In my forest,~ replied Legolas, ~We met in Mirkwood.  I tried to steal his horse.~

      Haldir laughed, ~What in the world for?~

      ~I…~ Legolas hesitated, ~It's a long story.~

      ~It's a long road,~ Haldir pointed out.

      Legolas considered.  Haldir somehow became his anchor along this strange road.  He was unerringly grounded, and mercilessly truthful.  But the more time they spent together, the more Haldir was learning to understand him.  The Lothlorien elf held his tongue in moments when Legolas desired silence, spoke when Legolas needed the distraction.  In turn, Legolas was beginning to understand him too, and took his words in stride when they meant to chide, and seriously even when they hurt.  He liked Haldir, for a certainty.  But it made him uncomfortable to speak of himself, and even more of a past that still hurt and scarred him.  Then again… speaking of that time he met Estel… what did the crazed Ranger tell him?

_      "So where will the wind take us this time, Tumbleweed?" Estel asked._

_      "Your Elvish requires polish," Legolas said wryly, "the name means Greenleaf, my friend."_

_      "Ah, but the other suits you more," reasoned Estel, teasing, "Are you always just leaving places, Legolas? Are you ever actually going somewhere?"_

_      Legolas smiled, a bit sadly this time, "It has been the case lately, I admit."_

_      "Well," said Estel, "decide quickly.  Wherever we are headed, we must move at once.  My brothers ride hard and quick.  They will be upon us soon."_

_      "Take me somewhere different," Legolas said dreamily, "I want to get away."_

_      Estel gave it a moment of thought, before saying, "You shouldn't just flee places, mellon.  Seriously.  The past has a way of catching up, you might as well stare it in the face."_

_      "I've tried that tack," sighed Legolas, "I've trod that path.  It is the past that turned me away."_

_      And yet when he urged his horse forward, Estel noticed they seemed to be headed in the general direction of Mirkwood.  He wordlessly followed the elf's lead._

      _And now I am leaving again_, thought Legolas sadly, _Estel__ will be disappointed in me.  Then again, he is escaping himself, and should not be the one to speak!_

      ~I was in a self-imposed exile in the forests of Mirkwood,~ said Legolas suddenly, after a moment of silence..

      ~Welcome back,~ Haldir teased him, ~I nearly gave up on you.~

      Legolas smiled, ~I'm sorry.  The memories are rich, and my mind takes flight with them.~

      ~Go ahead,~ Haldir encouraged.

      ~As you know, I was accused of my brother's murder,~ continued Legolas, ~No one believed I was innocent, and I left for the sake of my _ada_.  I spent years in the forest not knowing the centuries have passed me by.  Everyone thought I was dead.  In some sense, I suppose they were right.  But then at last I felt the strange, sudden and ardent desire to leave.  Thank the Valar, Estel and Mithrandir were… well, they were just _there_.  For the first time in centuries, I felt fate was smiling upon me.  I decided I would take one of their horses and they could share a steed, it would not have been much of a bother.  The stubborn _adan_ had other ideas, of course.~

      ~I suppose he must have been a handful of a 'victim,'~ commented Haldir.

      ~To say the least!~ Legolas exclaimed, ~And so we met.  And so I've been saddled with his miserable company since.~

      ~The wound on your back?~ Haldir inquired.

      ~From the blade of my brother,~ said Legolas gravely, ~Legardo, the younger.  It was he who caused Lesandro's death.  I discovered this when I at last returned to my kingdom to clear my name.~

      ~I see,~ said Haldir softly, ~I know now why it would not heal, for it mirrors your heart's wounds.~

      Legolas shrugged, ~Much as I desire to forget, I could not.~

      ~Maybe you should forgive instead,~ Haldir pointed out.

      ~That would be harder,~ Legolas confessed,  ~I feel I lost all my blood brothers.  But then I gained one in spirit, in Estel.  It was his hands who healed my wound, and most certainly _not _just the one you've seen on my back.  Yes, he helped clear my name.  But more than that, he furnished me with the strength to _want_ to, and the courage to try.  Do you know what he said to me? He said, 'You shouldn't just flee places.  The past has a way of catching up, you might as well stare it in the face.'Is it not ironic that now, it is he who is going against his own advice.~

      Haldir shook his head, dismayed, ~Such sensible words.  I wish you would both follow it.  It was gift, you see.  That courage, that strength to want to face a past that is admittedly truly painful, once again.~

      ~I regret I have not the heart to do the same for him, now,~ said Legolas sadly, ~He seems so happy here.  Why must he return to what once lent him pain and sorrow?~

      ~Because it is _his_ pain and _his _sorrow to take,~ said Haldir simply, ~It is _his_ life to live.  Whether you want it for him or not.  Whether _he_ wants it or not.~

      Legolas shook his head, ~I do not want to have this conversation again.  You believe our leaving without him is a mistake.  We've long established this.~

      ~Well _I'm_ here and _I_ want to say it,~ Haldir said, ~So _you_ have to put up with it.~ but he pushed the issue no more, and it made Legolas smile.

      ~You are losing your touch,~ he teased Haldir.

      The Lothlorien elf opened his mouth to retort something he was sure would have been clever, if not for the orc-presence he was sensing.  Legolas was coming to the same feeling.

      ~The dark courts them out of their hiding places,~ Legolas said softly, ~They are near.~

      ~And many,~ said Haldir, readying his bow even as he said, ~It may be wise to outrun them.  But… they will not be targeting the house, will they? We've all but left them just loosely protected there.~

      ~I know not,~ Legolas replied, ~But you are right.  'Tis a chance we cannot afford to take.  They will be upon us soon.  And they will face a tremendous force of two.~

      ~These are good odds,~ said Haldir, his face unreadable as the two elves aimed their arrows and released at almost the same instant, striking some foe unseen in the thick of the woods.  They heard the sound of their prey crying and falling, and more battle cries sounded.

      The rain began falling harder, just as the group of orcs emerged from the forests around them.

      Haldir jumped from his horse, more comfortable upon his own two feet in the midst of battles.  He patted the steed's flank and spoke to it in their native tongue, sending it away from the fray, to seek help if they can find it.  Legolas did the same; having the horse around was having one more thing to worry about.  While they were undoubtedly handy in some battles, being surrounded by orcs on foot presented greater dangers to the horse--which was a large target and difficult to completely protect, and to its master should it fall.

      Haldir found it easy to occupy Estel's usual place covering Legolas' back.  It was, after all, an instinctive stance for warriors.  But he found Legolas was a good co-worker when it came to such things, non-invasive, but accurate and effective.  The two elves at this point have resorted to their blades, but there were still wild arrows flying about from the orcs who cared little about hitting their own comrades as long as they got the target.

      Ducking and swinging, kicking and slashing, the two elves were handling themselves very well amidst the flood of their enemies. 

      That was, until one of those stray orc arrows had the blind luck to hit Haldir straight through his leg.  He stumbled back and bit back a cry, slamming against Legolas who heard the familiar sound of the 'thwok' of a shaft going through flesh. 

      Legolas swung his blade wide, discouraging any orc from moving forward for a brief moment, as he twisted and caught Haldir by the arm, steadying him.

      Haldir gave him a quick nod to assure Legolas that he was all right, and Legolas accepted this wordlessly.  The two of them resumed fighting.  But as they continued, Haldir noticed that Legolas' swings were wider, his steps larger, his strokes bolder.  The Mirkwood elf was instinctively taking over most of the circle that protected the pair of them from their enemies, compensating for a weakness he must have decided Haldir's injury brought.

      Haldir was both insulted and amused, embarrassed and appreciative.  The wound was smarting, and perhaps it was his nerves and resolve that kept him going, but he felt the sticky wetness of his own blood streaming in rivulets along his leg, and knew that the injury was bad enough.  Especially when the pain slowly escalated, and his breaths were cut short, and when his world started spinning.

      One of the first things a warrior learned in battle was that a single injury is the catalyst to more.  One injury kept a warrior from being adequately able to protect himself, until another came, and the ability diminished even more.

      Another lucky slash caught him across the arm, and he dropped one of his twin blades.

      Haldir was still a force to be reckoned with even with just a single sword and a pair of injuries, but he knew that it would do him an infinite good if this battle was over at the soonest possible time.

      The orc troop was thinning.  But it would not diminish soon enough.  He ducked as an axe sailed over his head.  But his head did not miss the thick of its handle when the wielder set his movement in reverse.

      His mind slipped.  Lights exploded beneath his eyes, and they slowly drifted shut.  He thought he murmured an apology to Legolas.  But he wasn't sure.  He knew no more.

      ~Haldir!~ Legolas exclaimed, as he felt the Lothlorien elf's body slump to the ground.  He swung his blade wide again to fend of attackers from his side, as he had done before.  But while that still worked, a wilier orc from Haldir's side grabbed the unconscious elf by the hair and pressed a dirty blade threateningly against his neck.

      "Lay down your weapons, elf," he told Legolas, "Or this one dies."

      It certainly made Legolas pause.

      "Why should I? You will kill us anyway," he retorted boldly, but his eyes could not seem to stray from the sword against Haldir's pale neck.

      "We might," laughed the orc, "But I do not think you will see his neck cut open before you, his life-blood spilling to the ground and emptying his body as much as my blade is emptying it of its soul, if you thought you could do something to stop it."

      Legolas tried to stare the orc down.  He will not be intimidated.  He knew in his heart that if they were taken captive, Haldir would meet the same end, and if he should surrender, he will only succeed in being included.  But the orc was right too.  He _could not_ see Haldir die before him.  Perhaps if he stalled long enough, he could keep them both alive.  Perhaps someone would come and aid them, even… Death seemed so final.  The possibilities were infinite.  As long as one was alive, something could be done.   

      The orc pressed the blade closer against Haldir's throat.  The sight of a thin line of blood was enough to send Legolas' weapons crashing to the ground.

TO BE CONTINUED…


	15. Chapter 15

Author: Mirrordance

Title: Escape

Summary: Aragorn is lost during a tour with the Rangers, and Legolas later finds him in Bree, without his memories & happily relieved of all his noble burdens, making the elf hesitate to bring him back to who he truly was.

* * *

PART FIFTEEN

* * *

      Estel sat upon the house's porch with Cecilia's sheaf of papers sitting beneath a cup of Teresa's tea.  He came out here wanting to remember his part, but not really having the heart to concentrate on the task.  He stared emptily out against the sight of the wind and the rain.

      He felt a measure of regret from a place he did not know, nor wish to know of.  But the feeling was potent, and it would not leave him.  Tiredly, he ran his hands across his face.

      Sari was watching him from the door, before the elf sat beside him with a wistful look on his face.

      Estel turned toward Sari and smiled at him uncertainly.

      ~Isn't this strange, Estel?~ murmured Sari, searching the _adan's_ eyes for comprehension, and finding an earnestly and honestly confused expression there, ~You and I.  Together here.~

      "I'm sorry, Sari," Estel chuckled, "I'm afraid my few days amongst elves did not improve my understanding of your language at all."

      "That's all right," Sari said, looking away from him.  Haldir and Legolas leaving lent a… finality to the entire arrangement.  This house, this life… it all began as a comforting dream.  And now it felt permanent, and sadly not-quite right.

      "It must be sad to see your friends leave," said Estel, wincing, "I'm sorry.  I fear I may have had something to do with it."  He hesitated, "I told Legolas some things.  I suppose it was that I didn't want him around.  In so many words."

      Sari sighed.  "I wouldn't feel particularly bad about it.  They couldn't have stayed anyways.  It was just a matter of time."

      "Still," insisted Estel, "I'm sorry.  He was your friend.  I should have been more accommodating."

      "Actually it is Haldir whom I am more acquainted with," said Sari, "I met Legolas but days ago."

      "I see," murmured Estel, "I suppose he just went with Haldir searching for you."

      "No," said sari, "You've seen his eyes.  That elf, my friend, is one in search of something else altogether."

      Estel's brows furrowed, and he stared at Sari for a long moment.  "You're beginning to speak like him.  In riddles that I think are supposed to tell me something."  He smiled uncertainly, "Or is it just a trait of the elves? Haldir, he doesn't speak this way, though."

      "Well he's a race of his own," said Sari wryly.

      Estel took a deep breath, sighed.  "Maybe it's this weather.  It's making me melancholy."

      "Perhaps it is because you've made them your friends too," Sari pointed out.

      "I suppose," Estel conceded.

      They fell silent for awhile, and it was only broken by the thundering of horse hooves in the near distance.

      "Riders are coming," Sari warned Estel, as the two raised themselves up from the ground and readied their weapons.  It couldn't be orcs upon horses, naturally.  But the hooves raced with such great speed that it spoke volumes of urgency.

      "No..." Sari whispered, his sharper eyes catching the sight of Legolas' and Haldir's horses as they emerged from the woods.  He shot forward into the rain, with Estel hard at his heels.

      Sari reached for the reins and tried to calm the horses down, patting their slick flanks.  They were unharmed, but clearly agitated.  And the thick black blood of the orcs stained their flesh here and there.  Their masters were nowhere in sight.

      Behind them, the other members of the house must have heard of the commotion and streamed out into the porch.

      "Are they back, are they back?" the children asked excitedly.

      "Haldir!" Sari called out towards the forest, "Legolas!"

      "Haldir!" Estel screamed with him, "Legolas!"

      They were met with no replies.  Sari's eyes met Estel's equally devastated ones.

      Damien and Biggles shot forward from the porch, venturing out into the hard rain and running towards Estel and Sari.

      "Where are they?" Biggles asked.

      "We know not," said Sari.

      Estel threw himself up the horse, eager to be taken to where their friends may have fallen.  But Sari grabbed for his reins before he could take a good hold of them.

      ~Think first,~ Sari retorted, unwittingly in Elvish.  And strangely, Estel unwittingly understood.  None of the pair of them noticed, but Damien certainly did and he ran away from the group to do something he felt merited the occasion…

      "Inside the house, inside the house!" they heard Cecilia ordering to the children, who complied grudgingly and slowly filed back, with Teresa ushering them.

      Cecilia stood at the porch of her house, watching the events unfold with calculating eyes.  She had the face of a woman who was sternly watching her kingdom crumble, but remained resolutely disbelieving and prideful.  

      "We may be running out of time," Estel urged, starting to become as agitated as Legolas' horse, the one he was riding, "We may _already_ be out of time for all that we know!"

      "Two elves apparently felled by what must be either a numerous or particularly skilled orc contingent," Sari pointed out, "You are not going out there with half a memory and a rusted pitchfork!"

      "I can remedy the latter," Damien said, jogging from the stables and bearing a long, slim burden wrapped in battered wool.  He removed the cloth and revealed a long, sleek, sheathed sword.  It was a weapon that seemed to emanate strength and power, and one that was just all too familiar to Estel.

      Damien returned it to its rightful owner, who took it reverently, as if it's barest touch would either burn him or bless him, scorn him or save him.

      Damien took a step back from the man as he removed the sword from its sheath.  It glinted and shone even in the dark of the day.

      "This was mine," he said softly, not asking, simply just _knowing_.

      "We found it with you," Damien said apologetically, glancing up at Cecilia, who was on the porch and looking at him coldly, as if she has been betrayed, "And when you could not remember who you were, we thought you could be with us instead, and kept it.  And kept all your old clothes.  And kept… And kept… _you from your own self_.  You are Dalsegno to us.  You needed no reminding of a life your mind fled.  You were our protector.  Our son.  Our brother.  But we can steal you no more from your fate.  And we can steal _from_ you no more, of who you are."

      Estel's eyes shot up to Cecilia, whose turbulent eyes were staring back at his, wishing to be cold, wishing to be shameless.  But he found in their deepest depths, her guilt.

      "It is nothing I did not take from myself," Estel murmured to Damien, "When I return, we will speak more of this."

      Sari boarded Haldir's horse, "Protect the house," he said to Damien and Biggles.

      "Protect yourselves," Biggles told them softly, as they spurred their horses forward towards the forests.

      Damien raised his head up proudly as he faced Cecilia and walked toward her.  

      "Do not apologize," she said sternly, her lips stiff.

      "I… I wasn't going to," he admitted.

      "I meant," she said, "Not that it would not be forgiven.  But that… you needn't."

      Damien stepped out of the rain and into the porch, brows furrowed in thought.

      "You had the courage to do what I could not," she told him softly.

* * *

      "I know that elf," one of the orcs said, pointing at Legolas, "He was one of those who attacked us the other night."

      "Are you sure?" his comrade asked him skeptically, "Blasted elves all look alike to me."

      "No it's him," insisted the orc, stepping forward in front of Legolas, asking, "He would know! He would, wouldn't he? Elf! Where are the corpses?"

      Legolas glanced at the orc blandly, and turned to Haldir, who was slung over the shoulder of one of the burlier orcs.  He wondered if he should even bother to cooperate.  Haldir was limp and unmoving.  _Not to mention being profoundly unfair,_ thought Legolas, leaving _him_ to handle the situation.  

      Then again, he was being ridiculously irritated.  It was always easier to feel irrational spite, Legolas figured, than to fear for the other's safety, than to wonder if he was even still alive at all…

      "Where are the corpses!" the orc asked him again, his arm raising to backhand the elf across the face.

      It was not an indignity Legolas was willing to suffer, and he ducked it cleanly, causing the orc to nearly lose his balance and sputter in frustration.

      The orc behind Legolas kicked at his back to subdue him, and he landed on his hands and knees from the impact.

      "Where are the corpses?" the orc- interrogator  insisted, and his comrades converged around them, wanting to find out the same thing, "The man and the woman.  Where are the corpses."

      Legolas looked up at him defiantly, his eyes burning, "You've taken their lives and now you seek to defile them even in death."

      "They brought it upon themselves," seethed the orc, "They have something of ours.  Our key! Our key!  Tell us where the corpses are!"

      "I will not," Legolas retorted, even as he wondered, _what key_?

      This time, the backhand did land where it was meant to, slapping Legolas across his face, making his head whip most painfully to the side.  The orcs pushed the unconscious Haldir to his knees and held him for Legolas to see.  They grabbed him by the hair, once again exposing the tender flesh of his pale neck.

      Legolas' breath caught.  His warrior's heart ached to fight.  And his mind pressed him to, knowing that if he didn't, he and Haldir were dead anyway.  But the part of him that was a friend to the Lothlorien elf absolutely _will _not see him slain.  Perhaps he just needed the opportune moment to act.  Perhaps, if he could keep them both alive long enough by cooperating, Haldir would awaken and they would eventually be able to fight their way out.

      "Kill him," the orc questioning Legolas ordered, motioning for Haldir.

      "No!" Legolas said quickly, "Wait."

      The orc turned to him, "Where are the corpses?"

      _I'm sorry,_ Legolas thought up to the pair of souls, _I must do this.  You are already dead.  But we still stand a chance_.

      "I will take you to where we laid them to rest," Legolas said softly. 

TO BE CONTINUED…


	16. Chapter 16

Author: Mirrordance

Title: Escape

Summary: Aragorn is lost during a tour with the Rangers, and Legolas later finds him in Bree, without his memories & happily relieved of all his noble burdens, making the elf hesitate to bring him back to who he truly was.

* * *

PART SIXTEEN

* * *

      They didn't have to walk very far.  An orc had Legolas by the neck and pushed and prodded him unnecessarily as the elf led them to the burial place of the nameless boy's parents, hands bound viciously in front of him.

      He had to admit that as they neared, he not only moved to keep Haldir and himself alive, he was also genuinely interested in discovering what this key was that the orcs so desperately desired.  Was it vital to their evil master's wishes, or a wanting of their own? What was so important about it that they would go through so much bother for a pair of corpses? Legolas buried them and as far as he saw, they held nothing of real value-- then again, he never was one to search and steal from the dead.  Either way, he had to find out.  If it was something to further the dominion of the enemies of Middle-Earth, then it was something he had to both discover and take, before it reached the wrong hands.

      A plan slowly began to form in his mind…    

      They broke into a small clearing, and he stopped walking.

      "I think this is the place," Legolas lied.

      The orc holding him pushed him to the ground, and surveyed the area.  The rain made the soil beneath them soft and slimy, clinging to everything.  Legolas certainly found this out first hand from his place there.  He pushed himself up to a sitting position, and watched as another orc viciously put Haldir beside him.

      It was the first time since the Lothlorien elf fell that he was placed within an arm's reach of Legolas, and the latter of course took advantage of the orc's preoccupation with the land to see how his friend was faring.

      Haldir was pale, yes, and of all fearful things, his eyes were closed and dark-rimmed.  It was difficult to see the severity of the wounds from beneath his tattered tunic, and because the rain fell and washed over them, he could not see if the blood-loss was truly copious.

      ~Haldir,~ he said to the elf softly, soothingly, ~If you can hear me, please open your eyes.~

      Legolas took Haldir's hands with his own bound ones, and was relieved to still find them warm.  

      "On your feet!" one of the orcs pulled Legolas up brutally, tearing his hands from Haldir's slack ones.  "You buried the corpses, you dig them out."

      "Is that supposed to be fair?" Legolas scowled at him.

      "Shut your mouth and do what is asked," the orc commanded, placing a rusted shovel between the elf's bound hands, "Dig.  You know what will happen if you refuse to obey."

      "I cannot work well with my hands tied," Legolas pointed out.

      "You can work well enough," snapped the orc, pushing him again, sending him to his hands and knees, "We are watching you.  And I am only _wishing_ you would do something stupid, that I may at last slay you and your friend."

      "You should find something better to do with your time," Legolas told him sarcastically, gaining his feet and securing his grip on the shovel.

      "I'll begin by cutting out your tongue," the orc told him menacingly, "And I'll make you eat it."

      Legolas' eyes narrowed in irritation.  He would not be cowed.  But if he got himself killed now, he will be taking Haldir down with him.  Teeth gritted in suppressed irritation, he began to work.

* * *

      Three feet down, Legolas confessed and told his captors he may have been mistaken after all.

      He got another backhand to the face, and a kick to his stomach for his trouble.  This was a part of the plan, he thought wryly, that he could have considered more.

      Along their road here, he decided that he will _not_ reveal the gravesite after all.  Whatever was buried there was _not_ for the orcs to take, and something he will have to see for himself when they are free.  _If_ they should ever be free…

      This failure to reveal the location will of course have its dangers, and could ultimately mean death.  Which was why he needed to give Haldir some time to wake and recover.  He noticed the orcs did not completely disarm the unconscious elf; if Haldir was the kind of warrior Legolas felt he must be, there would be a dagger upon his boot, or somewhere within the folds of his clothing, as was typical of an elven warrior who lived and breathed the life of a gifted soldier.  It was terrible training and negligence on the part of the orcs, but of course he thanked the Valar for this small measure of luck.  He just needed to buy time.  He just needed to keep the both of them alive long enough to have a fighting chance.

      What he failed to consider, however, was that the more he delayed, the more displeased his captors grew against him.  And the more time he bought for Haldir to recover, the more he was being punished and hurt.  It would be a severely tragic waste of time and effort if he should be terribly incapacitated by the time Haldir could fight.  _If_ he recovered at all, which was an option Legolas absolutely refused to accept, refused to even consider.  Things will not end this way for them.  It _could _not.

      "I think it is elsewhere," Legolas said quickly, "It was dark, and things look different now."

      "Elves do not get lost," one of the orcs said darkly, "and they do not forget.  You lie.  We will kill the both of you right now!"  
      "We are obviously not as infallible as you think," Legolas said, nodding pointedly at Haldir, "I think I know where the grave truly is."  
      "It had better be the right one, this time," another orc threatened him, as he pressed forward toward some other lie of a place, wishing Haldir would hurry up and wake.

* * *

      The first of Haldir's senses to return was that of hearing.  And what he heard was enough for him to hold his ground and keep quiet, to keep from moving, keep from calling any attention to himself.

      He was lying on his stomach on the cold, wet ground, he found to his dismay.  And the rain refused to cease!  His head throbbed, and he felt weak and sluggish.  But he was alive, he was alert.  Perhaps things weren't _so _bad after all.  But of course, things could always get worse…

      "I could have sworn that grave was right here," he heard Legolas say, and though he was relieved his comrade was still alive and apparently well, the punches subsequent to the announcement worried him, and the sound of someone falling dully to the ground.

      Haldir heard the orc captain bark some orders to his men, dividing them into three groups.  They will find that grave, sooner or later, he declared.  And as for their captives…

      "We are through being lied to, elf!" he screamed to Legolas as his men dispersed, "No more! You've just dug your own grave!"

      Haldir tensed, and and his hand stealthily crawled towards the dagger concealed in his boot.  If they had any sort of chance to spare their lives, it was this.  The orc company has diminished, and they did not disarm him.  His bout of unconsciousness gave his body time enough to heal for one great surge of fighting…

      He opened his eyes to narrow slits, surveying the situation.  They were left with just five orcs now.  Curiously, Legolas was nowhere in sight, though Haldir felt his nearness.  Opening his eyes a bit wider, he noticed a disturbance on the ground.  The orc-captain was looking down upon it.  

      _You've just dug your own grave!_

      The orc captain aimed his crossbow downwards.

      In a flash of movement, Haldir gathered his feet and lunged at the orc, plunging the elven dagger deep against its hide.  The orc roared in pain and surprise, and his comrades turned to Haldir with their own weapons raised.

* * *

      _About time_! Legolas' heart soared, as he jumped out of the grave he dug on his second search, bearing his shovel and using it to hit the back of an orc who was otherwise preoccupied with Haldir.

      Hands still bound, his weapon a dull, rusted shovel, he was distinctly at a disadvantage.  But Legolas was a fighter, and it was certainly weapon, and _chance!_ enough for him.

      But five, heavily armed orcs against a pair of weary, injured elves was chance enough for _them_ as well.

      Grunting in dismay, Legolas fought to get closer to Haldir.  The injury he sustained earlier was severe enough to render him incapacitated for hours, and therefore he could falter at anytime.

      Along this short and perilous road to Haldir's position but steps away, Legolas was waylaid by an orc and his scimitar.  He ducked the blade cleanly, but his shovel was not so lucky, and lost its head.  He was now miserably stuck fighting with a rusted… _stick_! The shovel he lost was suddenly, comparatively a really, _really_ lethal weapon after all!

      Legolas jumped back, dodging a menacing swing, and collided into a hard wall of orc-muscle.  To say the least, he was surrounded, unarmed and _vastly _unlucky. 

      He twisted to recover his balance and face this new attacker, but he was not quick enough to fend off the orc's blade.  The sword cut through time and space, finding him and cutting through his skin and muscle as it plunged into his chest.       

      His mind blanked for a moment, overwhelmed by pain and disbelief.  He took a shaky breath, and his turbulent eyes met the triumphant glare of his orc-assailant.

      Never one to admit defeat, Legolas grit his teeth in determination, and kicked the orc away.  His hands gripped the hilt of the sword still lodged in his body, and he drew it out quickly with an angry, pained and fighting cry.

      Stumbling slightly, he caught his balance and swung wide, cutting the orc's throat by its own weapon, and swiveled to deal with the other orc still behind him.

      With the last of his waning strength, he lunged at the orc and his stolen blade found its heart.  

      Legolas wrenched the sword free of the orc and stepped back, losing his footing and landing on the mudded ground on his knees, breathless and bleeding.  

* * *

      The last orc fell, and Haldir's gaze swept the field of battle and found Legolas kneeling on the ground, his pale hands resting against a wound on his chest, blood spurting from it and running with the scour of the falling rain.

      He limped to the Mirkwood elf's side, and fell to his knees beside him.

      ~You certainly took your time waking!~ Legolas teased him with a wince, as Haldir gently pulled his hands away from the wound to look at it.  It bled profusely, and seemed to have gone straight through and out his back.  It was undoubtedly a grave wound, and one he knew was beyond his merely rudimentary skills of healing.  It was already miracle enough that the blade eluded vital organs that could have ended the elf's life instantly if struck.  But the wound was severe enough, and it will take the elf's life anyway, unless treated soon.   

      Haldir pressed at the wound himself, not finding the heart to reply.  There would be no treatment soon, of course.  They were alone in a forest, without horses, with little provisions, and he did not have the skills at all.

      The blood seemed to spurt out in waves that matched Legolas' furiously pounding heart.  With so much loss so quickly, that very heart would cease soon.  Haldir knew with a sinking heart that there was nothing he could do about it.  He knew there was nowhere they could go for help in time…

      ~Is it that bad?~ Legolas asked him earnestly, sighing a breath, as if it hurt him, and most likely it did, ~I see something in you I've never seen before.~

      ~What would that be?~ Haldir asked him with furrowed brows, wanting to regain his composure, wanting to return to the morning's previous lightheartedness, ~Kindness? Caring? Worry? Surprised to find I have a heart?~

      ~No,~ Legolas replied, meeting his eyes sternly, ~I see defeat.~

      ~Never,~ Haldir lied, taking his hands from Legolas wound.  He used his dagger to free the other elf from the rope that still bound his hands, ~Press against the wound for awhile.  Can you?~

      ~You yourself said I can do most things well,~ Legolas chided, though his voice was losing its strength, if not his charm.

      Haldir tore at his cloak, though he felt it was fruitless to bind the wound with it, for the cloth was so saturated with rainwater that it could do little in staunching the flow of blood, so miserably soaked was it.  Nevertheless, he tore strip after strip and bound Legolas' wounds anyway.  

      The Mirkwood elf sat patiently, swaying a little, saying naught.  He was fading fast, and Haldir's own strength was waning from his own hurts.  But he will give them this chance.

      He pushed himself up to his feet, and Legolas looked up at him wryly, as if he was kidding, or perhaps insane.

      ~You know as well as I that we will not get very far,~ Legolas told him plainly.

      ~Well we are not just staying here to await a trip to the Halls of Mandos either,~ Haldir said stubbornly, ~Or if we are ever to do that, I will rather await it _away_ from the stench of the corpse of an orc.~

      Legolas smirked, ~That sounds fair.~

      ~Come now,~ Haldir said, leaning over Legolas and taking one of his arms, wrapping it about his shoulders.  He pulled the other elf up, and Legolas aided him by pushing against the ground.  His spirit was strong, and he did not complain, even if his body protested with a harsh cough.

      Haldir waited for the coughing to abate, before the pair of them took their first steps forward.

TO BE CONTINUED…


	17. Chapter 17

Author: Mirrordance

Title: Escape

Summary: Aragorn is lost during a tour with the Rangers, and Legolas later finds him in Bree, without his memories & happily relieved of all his noble burdens, making the elf hesitate to bring him back to who he truly was.

* * *

PART SEVENTEEN

* * *

      The pair of them stumbled and fell forward in what was admittedly an undignified, un-elvish heap.  Haldir cried out at the pain it caused his wounds, but Legolas could no longer find the voice to express the way his breath rushed from his body with its anguish.  Haldir's cry was not lost upon his muddled senses, however, and he shifted away from the Lothlorien elf in case he may have accidentally fallen on his injured arm, or leg.

      Gritting his teeth in determination, Haldir sought his feet again, and pished off the ground to rise.  His body trembled with his hurts, and he collapsed beside Legolas, breathless.

      ~Rest awhile,~ Legolas murmured to him, ~Your wounds are bad enough without my burdening you.~

      ~You are no burden,~ Haldir lied, moving to rise again, ~Come.  We must keep moving.~

      ~You will kill yourself if you keep up like that,~ Legolas scolded him, and was relieved when Haldir did not bother to retort the obvious; it was Legolas who would die if they did not rise and seek aid.  But their eyes met, and they both knew they were thinking the same thing, and it was almost as bad.

      ~We must keep moving,~ Haldir insisted.

      ~I will not be the death of you,~ Legolas said stubbornly, and there was still fire in his dimming eyes, and power in his fading voice.

      ~I will pull you up with me whether you want it or not,~ Haldir threatened him, ~So you might as well aid me.~

      ~You know as well as I,~ Legolas said, finding the heart to chuckle at their predicament, and caught his breath at the pain it caused, ~that you can barely move as it is, and you most certainly _would not_ be able to make a single step forward unless I let you.  I've made up my mind.  We're staying here.  Save your strength, for when you set out later.~

      Haldir bitterly noted the _you's_ in Legolas' statement.  The Mirkwood elf knew that by that time, Haldir would be alone.    

      ~You do have a rather bad habit of deciding for people,~ Haldir retorted, ~You think you can live our lives better than we?~

      ~Yes,~ laughed Legolas, and ended it with a harsh cough that stole his breath and strength.  Haldir stared at him for a moment, as if coming to some strange decision, and then moved towards him.  For what must have been the first time in all his years of living, Haldir's hands flailed, as if he did not know what to do.  At last, his hands settled upon Legolas' shoulders, and he pulled the Mirkwood elf close, lending him warmth, and strength, and reassurances.  His hesitations stilled when at last he found the courage to embrace the other, and though he could do nothing else, it felt enough.

      Legolas hesitated, but eventually let Haldir do this much for him, for both their sakes.  The Lothlorien elf shared his aversion to helplessness, and seemed to feel that this was all that he could do, now.  

      ~Does it hurt?~ Haldir asked.

      ~You've seen it, haven't you?~ Legolas asked him back wryly, stifling a cough. 

      ~No need to be so cross,~ Haldir said quietly, matching the other's humorous tone even though his eyes were infinitely sad, ~You would not want _that _to be the last thing you ever said in your life.~

      Legolas chuckled, but Haldir felt that his body shook from more than his humor.  It was the cold of the rain, and the cold of death hovering over him.

      ~I'm sorry,~ Haldir said suddenly, mournfully, ~I'm sorry I could not do any more for you.~

      ~Think about it this way,~ Legolas said softly, a smile teasing his lips, ~I could have been here all alone if you weren't so difficult to shake free.  Thank you for being stubborn and insistent.~

      ~Similarly,~ said Haldir wryly, ~I could have just stayed at the house and spared myself the trouble.~

      ~When you get back to the house,~ Legolas told him, eyes fluttering as he struggled to stay awake, ~Tell them the orcs look for a key, from the parents of the boy we rescued nights ago.  It might be best if they left the place for awhile, to be safe, for the enemy's searching might bring them to the children.~

      ~I will,~ Haldir promised.

      ~Thank you,~ Legolas said softly, his voice fading.

      Locked in an embrace, Haldir could not see the other's face, but knew from the sound of his voice that he was leaving in a hurry.

      Haldir unknowingly held him tighter.

      ~For the first time in my life,~ he murmured, ~I'm finding time is not enough.~

      Legolas did not reply.

      Haldir knew he still drew breath, but he also knew that by now, he was already surely dreadfully alone.

* * *

      The thunder of horse hooves alerted him to the arrival of some company.  He did not know if it was just literally thunder overhead, mirroring the desperate wanting of his heart.

      But the thunder did not cease and ever did it come closer, until from the wood emerged Estel and Sari.  Their faithful steeds did bring aid, and the only question by now was that if it was aid enough, and if they had made it in time.

      Estel jumped from his horse even before it came to a complete stop, and fell to his knees in front of Haldir and Legolas.

      "Does he live?" he asked Haldir searchingly, fearing to look at Legolas himself.

      "Yes," Haldir answered, "I think you may have arrived just in time."

      "He needs a healer," Sari said, looking over them, "Do you think he can be moved? Or should I go to Bree and commandeer one?"

      "You need not go so far," Haldir told Sari, "You have a gifted pair of hands right here."

_      ~This is taking you forever,~ Haldir declared.  _

_      Legolas glanced up at him, lips quirking to a smile just as he finished the final knot.  ~I am sorry.  I'm not as instinctively good at it as Estel is.  I have to be more careful.~_

_      ~If this catches on a nail,~ said Haldir, ~And snags and breaks apart, it will shatter my heart to tell you.~_

_      Legolas smiled, ~Let us hope Estel remembers his healing ways by then, because I have no plans of doing this over.  You know, he really is very good.  Lord Elrond himself taught him, and he's learned other ways in his years with the Rangers.  A shame, really, that I didn't pick up on it very well.~_

      The pair of elves looked pointedly at an unsuspecting Estel, who finally noticed and looked up at them with furrowed brows.

      "_Your_ hands," Haldir told him flatly.

      Hands that drifted, once again, to the wound on his temple, and they shook, as his mind fought to resurface and to reclaim him.

      "I do not know of the healing ways, you are mistaken," Estel said, hurriedly rising to his feet and stalking towards Legolas' horse, "If you will not summon the healer, _I _will."

      ~No more running,~ Haldir said wearily after him, and it made him pause.  The elf shifted languages, "You shouldn't just flee places," he said, quoting Legolas who in turn quoted Estel, "The past has a way of catching up, you might as well stare it in the face."

      Estel froze.  He knew the words.  He knew them well.  Though from where, he did not know.  Things felt so near and so distant.  Like words that rested on the tip of one's tongue.  So potently _there_ but elusive, just out of reach.  He was going insane.  

      "Turn and face who you are," Haldir urged him, ~If I cannot summon the human King,~ he said, his voice taking on a rather unfamiliar, desperate tone, ~or if I cannot summon Evenstar's lover, then I hope I can invoke the part of you that had been a friend to Legolas.~

      ~Haldir,~ Sari said softly, but sternly, his eyes darting between the other elf's lonely, desperate eyes and Estel's confused ones, ~Be fair.  He is hurt.  It is not merely an act of the will!~

      ~Everything is,~ Haldir said fervently, not removing his stare from Estel, ~The _edain_ are not as weak as we would want to think, and this man is said to be one amongst the very best of them.~

      Estel took a step back, aghast at all the words he seemed to understand, and he didn't know how he understood because his mind was racing and fleeting, but his heart seemed to know what they meant.  

      ~No more running,~ Haldir begged him, ~No more hiding.~

      _Turn and face us_, Haldir thought fervently, as he had just this morning.

      ~Return to us,~ Haldir invoked.

_      If you are half the man we thought you were, turn and face us.  _

      ~If you are half the man _he_ thinks you are, you will _return_ to us,~ urged Haldir, ~He would do anything for you.  The least you could do is to come here, and _try_.~  

      _Do not let him leave_, he thought this morning, and now he knew for a certainty that such fervent thoughts held more weight; Estel _should not_ just turn a blind eye, this time.  

      ~Do not let him die,~ Haldir begged him, ~If you are half the man he thinks you are, you will come here, and you will save his life!~

TO BE CONTINUED…


	18. Chapter 18

Author: Mirrordance

Title: Escape

Summary: Aragorn is lost during a tour with the Rangers, and Legolas later finds him in Bree, without his memories & happily relieved of all his noble burdens, making the elf hesitate to bring him back to who he truly was.

* * *

PART EIGHTEEN

* * *

      _"You grew up with Lord Elrond's family," Legolas said, smiling, "Have you met the lovely Evenstar?"_

_      Estel pursed his lips.  "I have."_

_      "I've seen her but a few times," said Legolas, "Impeccable, isn't she? Downright magical."_

_      "Stunning," sighed Estel._

_      Legolas turned towards him, eyes growing wide, and grinning at the sight of the man's red face, even in the heart of winter.  "Ha! Oh, you do reach for the stars, mellon.  _Estel _indeed!"___

_      "Is it so unlikely?" snapped Estel, slightly offended._

_      "Oh, you are fairly good looking," Legolas teased._

_      Estel's lips quirked, but kept himself from smiling back.  The elf was already profoundly pleased with himself enough for finding his sore spot._

_      "Your eyes are smiling," Legolas pointed out, "It is useless for you to pretend to be displeased with me."_

* * *

      Estel stepped forward, towards Haldir and Legolas.  And he took another, and another.  Each one encouraged the next, it seemed, and the narrowing distance only mirrored his strengthening resolve.

* * *

_      "Steel yourself, Estel," said Legolas, drawing his bow, "Orcs."_

_      "How many?" Estel murmured, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword._

_      "Let's say there are enough of them to actually have a chance against you and I," said Legolas lightly, though Estel read from his eyes that he knew the situation was fairly dangerous and lethal indeed._

_      "Fight or flee?" asked Estel._

_      "No more fleeing," said Legolas gravely, "Did you not say I must head places now, instead of just running away from them? Well.  These orcs are in my way."_

_      "I did not tell you to kill yourself, Legolas," muttered Estel, "If reason says we must flee now and fight this another day…"_

_      "We can take them," said Legolas determinedly, "No more running.  But I cannot ask you to stay with me."_

_      Estel sighed.  "You needn't."_

* * *

      That was a pair of years ago.  He remembered now.  And the more he remembered, the more he hurt.  Not just for himself, in knowing what it was he had lost, but he hurt for Legolas, for the lively elf in his remembrances was a far cry from the one that Haldir held in his arms, unmoving, and bleeding, and _dying_.

* * *

      _"Dare I stare at the past once again?" Legolas asked him._

_      "Take it before it takes you," Estel said wistfully._

* * *

      Curious, how it seemed that their roles have reversed.  But if Legolas can find the courage, then Estel knew that so could he.

      He fell to his knees in front of Haldir and Legolas, and though his hands shook, it seemed as if they knew just where to go.  He felt Haldir's and Sari's eyes resting intently upon his face.  It seemed that the Lothlorien elf who summoned him back was suddenly unsure, though undoubtedly desperately hopeful.

      He looked up and met Haldir's eyes.  

      ~I've done this before,~ Estel murmured to the elf reassuringly.

      Haldir, with brows furrowed, nodded.  There was something undeniably changed about Estel's demeanor.  His eyes were lonelier, and it suddenly seemed as if his shoulders were bearing a greater weight.  

      He knew then, that Estel had returned to them at last.  He also knew what it cost the _adan_.  It cost him that ridiculous life in that ridiculous orphan house.  It cost him the Bree-folk Company of Actors and the blasted elven carrot-ears.  It cost him the light heart of Dalsegno.  

      In a way, it cost him a life.

* * *

      Haldir found himself seated upon the kitchen table again, although this time, it was Sari who was binding his wounds.  It was late in the afternoon, and the rain ceased at last, lending enough time for the sun to be visible for a little while, just before it set for the evening.

      Teresa stepped into the room and smiled at them politely.  She was being trailed around by the little boy they rescued nights ago.  He had a shy smile, and he still refused to talk, but he was openly affectionate with her, and moved about as if he were her shadow.  Unlike all the other children, he was not threatened by the kitchen and the chores it represented at all, and Teresa handed him a small stack of plates and told him to ready the dining table.  He scurried away, throwing her a smile before he left.

      Sari watched, and smiled at her as well.  "You have a way with him, Teresa."

      Her cheeks flushed.  

      So did his.

      Haldir wanted the world to open up and swallow him whole.

      "Are you well?" Teresa asked him, peering over Sari's work.

      "Yes," Haldir replied.

      "I worry for Legolas," she said uneasily, "He seemed so kind.  It was sad when he left.  And now he is back but I peered into the room, and Dalsegno just finished tending to him, and… and… well, if you do not mind my saying so… that is…"

      "He looks like he's at death's door," Haldir said wryly, freeing her from her wordless misery, "I wouldn't worry for him, Teresa.  It all looks grave but he will survive.  The mischievous ones _always_ do."

      Sari tightened the bandages about Haldir's arm a little too much, making the other elf wince.  Haldir glared at him in irritation, as if saying, _point taken_.  But Sari blinked up at him in feigned innocence.

      "Haldir is not so callous as he seems," Sari said, teasing, "Why he was near tears earlier today.  I wonder how you looked when you thought _I _was dead and gone."

      "I had a lager and a rather enjoyable time," lied Haldir flatly.

      "Was it orcs that hurt you too?" Teresa asked Sari, pretending to busy herself with wiping at cups and glasses.

      "I was a slave to them for several hundred years," Sari replied.

      "I see."

      Haldir bit his lip, desperately wanting to leave, but Sari's work on his wounds kept him rooted in place, and he felt dreadfully intrusive.

      "I've become all the things I did not wish to be," Sari added, watching her face carefully, searching for acceptance, searching for rejection, searching for any kind of answer.  It was ridiculous; his mind knew his capture was not his fault, and not a discredit to who he was.  But his years of hardship taught him things he did not know of himself, of how low a soul could sink, of how desperate one can be.  He emerged stronger, yes, but no less scarred, no less tainted.

      "Well," she said, "It's not where we come from, I always say.  It's where we are."

      He smiled at her, and turned his attention back to Haldir's arm.

      "Biggles said you folk were talking about us all leaving," Teresa said after a moment, "Is this true?""  
      "Yes," replied Haldir, "The orcs that Legolas and I came upon were searching for the grave of the boy's parents.  Looking for a key of some kind."

      Teresa's brows furrowed.  "A key?"

      "Yes," said Haldir plainly, "We know naught else of how it looks, or where it leads.  But we fear orcs scouring the forests nearby may inevitably lead them to this house.  A might of them against a few of us, with Legolas and I temporarily incapacitated, and a houseful of children to protect… it will be nothing short of a massacre."

      Teresa bit his lip.  She drew a chain from beneath her neck, and showed it to Sari and Haldir.  "This key?"

      Haldir's eyes widened, and he used his free hand to touch it.  It sparkled and shone in a distinctly brilliant way.  "This is _mithril_."

      "The boy," said Teresa shakily, "He gave it to me.  I suppose it must have belonged to his mother.  This is what they want?"

      "When they find those corpses," said Sari tersely, "And see that the key is not with them, they will inevitably hunt for the boy.  We must flee from here."  

      "But where will we go?" Teresa asked, fingering the necklace nervously.  What could be so important about a little key?

      "Perhaps to Bree," said Haldir, "Somewhere nearer to the other towns.  At the soonest possible time.  Tomorrow morn, if it can be done."

      Sari finished binding Haldir's wound, and stepped back to survey it critically.  "I will speak with Cecilia.  But can Legolas travel so soon?"

      "He will if he must," Haldir replied.

* * *

      _Athelas_.

      It was the first thing that sprang to his mind when he breathed and realized he still lived, and that in breathing there was the scent of the healing herbs that seemed to pepper all his adventures with Estel.

      _Estel__!_

      His eyes snapped open, and he realized he was warm, in bed, aching, yes, but for the moment, safe.  Moonlight drifted in from the windows to dully light the room.  He knew he was back in the orphan house, though this was a room he did not recognize; he was on a bed, instead of a mat.  He cringed inwardly and concluded they must have settled him upon Cecilia's or Teresa's bed.  Had he been awake then, he would have told them it was rude to take the space from the old woman.

      On a chair to his right, Haldir was watching his face with a little, welcoming smile.  

      Legolas opened his mouth to say something, but Haldir put a finger to his own lips, wordlessly telling Legolas to keep quiet, and nodded pointedly to the Mirkwood elf's other side.

      There, he found Estel's dark head resting near his hand.  The _adan_ was sleeping on his folded forearms in a most uncomfortable looking manner, with a blanket over his shoulders.  Legolas' eyes watered, at the sight that was bittersweet.

      ~If you really must speak,~ whispered Haldir, ~Keep your voice down.  He needs his rest.  He has come a long way… If you get my meaning.~

      Legolas turned away from Estel, and stared at Haldir.  The moonlight made his eyes glisten, magnifying the tears that were there.  He closed them to keep the tears from falling, and took a shaky breath.  He hurt, both in body and in soul. 

      Trembling and weak from his injury, Legolas took a moment to gather his strength, before he took a deep breath and said, ~So he has made his way back to us.~

      ~Yes,~ replied Haldir, ~He saw to your hurts.  He found his healer's hands.  But these could not be divorced from the entirety of his caring, and he remembers all, now.~

      Legolas closed his eyes again, dismayed.  And so it was still he who brought Estel's grief back to him.  He left already.  Estel made his choice to escape.  Legolas made the choice to let him.  Life was slightly more complicated all around, but when wasn't it? All was sorted, in its own distorted way.  They made their own paths, and now fate has taken the reins again, and pushed them some other way.

      ~Life and fate are truly horrid,~ he said softly, shakily, ~They pretend to furnish you choices, just to see how much you would give.  And then they took all choice away from you anyway.~

      ~I think it's comforting,~ Haldir told him soothingly, ~We can never truly make monumental mistakes, for life would inevitably right itself.~

      Legolas cleared his throat, ~I suppose.~

      ~Do you know he gave _this_ life for you?" Haldir asked him.

      ~Yes,~ replied Legolas.

      ~He is worthy of your friendship,~ affirmed Haldir, ~And of the love of the Evenstar, and of the deeds that precede him.~

      ~I never doubted,~ Legolas said softly.

      Haldir smiled, chuckled a little.  ~What is funny here is that fate still refuses to be kind to him.  Do you know he has not left this room _at all_ since we returned here? He said he wanted to be here when you woke.  He fell asleep but minutes ago, and I took over, and you wake up on _my_ shift.  He will not be pleased with you at all.~

      Legolas lips quirked.  But his eyelids fluttered, and sleep was quickly reclaiming him, until he remembered why he was there in the first place.

      ~You've told them about the orcs and the key?~ he murmured.

      ~Do not worry about it,~ Haldir told him, ~Sleep well, _mellon_.  Regain your strength.  We will all leave the moment the sun shines.~

* * *

      He next woke up to the rising of the sun, and to Estel's smiling face, which shone much brighter.

      ~Welcome back,~ he said to Legolas, almost shyly.

      ~I should be the one telling you so,~ he said to Estel.

      ~Will you eat?~ Estel asked him, showing him a small piece of bread, ~For the road ahead?~

      Legolas closed his eyes, licked at his dry lips and shook his head.  His chest throbbed, and the pain was making him breathless and nauseous.  Estel's brows furrowed in concern, and he gripped Legolas' forearm tightly, willing to be looked upon.

      ~We can leave tomorrow,~ Estel said quickly, ~We needn't rush.  Or perhaps the others can go ahead, if you are still not ready.~

      Legolas placated him with a careless wave of his hand, ~I just need a moment.  We cannot stay.  You know this as well as I.~

      ~Haldir is preparing with the rest of the group,~ said Estel, ~The road is not so long, we will reach Bree before noon, at a comfortable pace, with some of us on foot.  The sun is high in the sky, the rain clouds have passed.  It will be safe, and quick.  And at the end of this road I promise you a bed and as much rest as you could possibly desire.~

      ~You had better,~ Legolas said wryly, ~But I am going to need your help rising first.~

      ~Yes, of course!~ Estel exclaimed, sitting next to Legolas on the bed, and supporting his back and shoulders as he sat up.  The movement was making his heart race, and his wound protest.  But he grit his teeth through it, and caught his breath as Estel steadied him.

      ~You seem so nervous,~ Legolas pointed out, panting, to his great dismay.  He wondered how in all of Arda he was ever going to get on his feet!

      ~I'm not,~ Estel lied, but Legolas was looking at him knowingly, and there was no winning over his clever eyes, ~I don't know.  I'm sorry.  I wondered, if perhaps, you would be mad at me.~

      ~That's preposterous,~ Legolas assured him.

      ~I sent you away,~ Estel said plainly, ~It is my fault you got hurt.~

      ~Then it might as well be your fault that you were attacked and lost your memories,~ Legolas pointed out, ~You really are conceited, Estel.  The world does not revolve around your actions.~

      Estel raised an eyebrow at him cockily.  ~Oh they don't, do they? I'm rather disappointed.~

      Legolas chuckled at him.  It was good to have Estel back.  And yet all at once his heart was burdened by the fact that he cost Estel the happiness that he found here.

      ~Estel--~ he was about to say, when Haldir stepped into the room, effectively cutting him off.

      ~It's time to leave,~ the March warden declared, stepping forward towards Legolas and Estel to assist.  The attention was embarrassing Legolas, and all at once he knew it was necessary.  He wished he could be angry, but he understood the situation and he could hardly find the heart or strength to argue.  He cringed inwardly at the thought of _everyone_ in the house spying his weakness.

      Estel read his face and looked at him knowingly, ~None of that now, Legolas.  You cannot afford the steep price of your pride.~

      ~Ha,~ he said tiredly, as he slowly swung his legs over the bed, letting his feet touch the ground.  He glanced down at them miserably.  He needed his shoes.  He glanced around to look for them, and found Estel already bearing them.  He bit his lip and suffered the embarrassment of getting helped into his clothes.

      ~Thank you,~ he murmured to his friends, looking up at them gratefully.  

      Estel gave him a thin smile, as his eyes roved over the ailing elf's pale face.  His body was trembling with his pain, and he looked drawn and tired, with a glassy stare that was very much unlike his usually intent, focused look.  It was not just his concern for his friend that made him hesitate to take him along in this journey so soon, but also the healer in him felt Legolas was not given time enough to recover.  But it was the warrior in him who prevailed, because it was how he knew to keep them alive.   

      Estel took one of his arms and Haldir the other, putting them over their shoulders.  The movement made his wound throb all the harder, and he winced as they lifted him up to his feet.  The world was spinning insistently all around him.  The pain was winning over him, darkening his vision.  He could not seem to catch a decent breath.

      ~He should not be doing this,~ Estel muttered to Haldir over Legolas' head, which was lolling about, struggling to stay upright.  His body was tensed, and his quaking knees buckled beneath him as he released a harsh coughing spell that refused to leave him.

      Muttering a curse, Estel caught him cleanly before he took them all to the ground, and put his arms beneath Legolas' knees and his back, carrying him as Haldir relinquished his hold.

      The Mirkwood elf was barely clinging to consciousness as the coughing ceased, and one of his hands drifted to cling desperately at his tunic, right over his chest, as if he was fighting the pain by suppressing it.

      Haldir's limp was becoming more pronounced by the moment, as he strode toward the bed and gathered the blankets he felt they would inevitably need.  His own injury was healing, but his constant moving was doing it no good at all, and the near-fall of Legolas and his instinctive, too-quick movement of trying to regain his balance only reminded him not to be too harsh to his own body.  

      Estel, who was standing by the door, watched him carefully, but said nothing, for it seemed the Lothlorien elf was well-aware of his own situation, and was making the necessary, more-careful movements.

      Haldir looked up at him, smiled wryly as he took in Legolas in Estel's arms, subdued in his tamer semi-consciousness.  ~You should have drugged him instead, from the first moment.  It makes him infinitely easier to have to deal with, placated like this.~

      ~You know, Haldir,~ Estel laughed, ~He must have heard that.  And though he cannot give you a decent barb at the moment, I guarantee you he will remember it.~

* * *

      At the head of the line was Sari, alert and atop a horse.  Cecilia's cart, manned by Damien and overloaded with the younger children, followed right behind.  Teresa and Biggles were traveling on foot with the older of the children at the center, where Haldir and Legolas traveled, sharing a steed.  Estel held the rear.  It made for a rather loose circle of protectors, but the sun was high up in the sky, and they did not expect any trouble.  

      Still, the children were no strangers to danger, and held a very disciplined line as they walked toward Bree.  The presence of an injured Legolas was enough to remind them of the perils of the situation, and though they spoke softly of lighter things and seemed to have strong, stout hearts, they would glance at the elf once in awhile, and kept themselves wary.

      Estel watched the entire play of it, from his position at the back of the troupe.  He was riding Legolas' horse, for the injured elf was riding with Haldir, who had a secure hold on the prince, with his proud riding stance hampered little by his burden and his own injuries.  

      Legolas' golden head rested against the Lothlorien elf's shoulder, and Estel watched with some irrational measure of jealousy. 

      That was _his_ job!, he thought, even as he knew that there was greater benefit in that, uninjured as he was, he would be more useful in case of a battle than Haldir and needed both his arms free, which was why it was decided that the Lothlorien elf would be the one to aid Legolas and not him.

      _Still… _the more irrational part of him argued. 

      He shook his head, though it was the feeling that he wished he could shake off instead.  It was truly ridiculous.  Perhaps now, instead of forgetfulness, he is addled with madness instead.  Suddenly he's in a mad dash to reclaim that which he scorned just days ago? But Legolas, in all fairness, was one of the few truly, purely good things about that other life.  His friend.  His brother.  And Estel felt he had every right to reclaim him as much as he reclaimed the more dire aspects of who he was.

      Earlier this morning, Legolas quickly appeased Estel's fears of the elf being mad at him.  While it eased his mind some, he had seen Legolas' pain, and he knew he inflicted it.  That he could not forget, or let go of so easily, even if Legolas could.

      He sighed, turning his attention elsewhere.  He still has not spoken at length with Cecilia, though from the lost but understanding way she looked at him, he knew for a certainty that _she_ knew he has regained his memories.  She was stern and prideful and will not plainly speak of the things that hurt her.  But she will let him go, he knew, and though it was necessary, it was a parting he did not wish to make.  Then there was going home, back to Rivendell… He heard they all thought he was dead.  There, Arwen would be.  And his brothers.  And his _ada_.  In the meantime, here Sari was to deal with too.  He did not wish to leave, he did not wish to go to where he must, and yet he cannot stay, and he cannot escape.  Life was cruel!  

      Were things always this complicated? Relationships, love, friends, families, responsibilities, orcs? No wonder he wanted to forget… it was all very confusing, even if he supposedly had all his faculties intact once again.

      In the midst of his thoughts, he noticed that Haldir slowed the pace of his horse, as Legolas stirred.  When they stopped altogether, Estel raised his voice and told the group to keep moving, as he broke the line and stopped beside Legolas and Haldir.

      ~What's wrong?~ he asked at once, looking at Legolas' pallid face.  He was awake, but disoriented and clearly pained, his brows knit and his hand once again clutching at his chest, breathing laboriously.

      ~It's all right,~ Legolas replied, looking up at Estel.

      ~He just needs a moment,~ Haldir said, though he looked rather uncertain himself.  

      Frowning, Estel took Legolas' hand from his chest and laid it down.  He pulled at the blanket that Haldir had draped over the elf earlier in the day, determined to check the wound.

      ~Don't be a menace now,~ Legolas scolded him, grabbing the _adan's_ hands with his cold ones, ~It does not bleed again, I promise.  It's the Valar's honest truth.  As Haldir said.  I need just a moment.~

      His frown deepening, Estel nevertheless re-fixed the blanket that was draped over Legolas' shoulders, taking the elf's word.  ~Well I think that is a vast understatement.~

      Legolas found heart enough to chuckle, but because it hurt, he groaned and told Estel not to make him laugh.

      Estel was not nearly as lighthearted.  "We're near, _mellon_," he said to Legolas reassuringly, though Estel looked to Haldir and the two shared a worried expression.

      ~Calm down, you pair of fools,~ sighed Legolas, ~I did not come this far just to die here.  You know I hate wasting my time.~

      Estel chuckled.  ~You are a handful.~

      He lingered by them a little longer, before he re-took his place at the tail of the traveling group.  It seemed difficult to wrest himself away.  He was quickly realizing that no matter where he went, and no matter what happened, as long as he was with friends, he was home.

TO BE CONTINUED…


	19. Chapter 19

Author: Mirrordance

Title: Escape

Summary: Aragorn is lost during a tour with the Rangers, and Legolas later finds him in Bree, without his memories & happily relieved of all his noble burdens, making the elf hesitate to bring him back to who he truly was.

* * *

PART NINETEEN

* * *

      They did reach Bree by noon and without incident.  Its wary townsfolk inquired about the purpose of the large troupe's arrival and, fearing to be turned away because of the danger they brought with them, Cecilia's sharp mind quickly turned up a lie and said that they will be performing as the Bree-folk Company of Actors in a few nights, and they brought their beneficiaries—the orphans—with them.  Having heard of the troupe, they were met with great enthusiasm.  Now if only that blasted play was ready…

      Legolas, conscious and determined to be on his feet, was aided by Estel's hand firmly planted upon his arm.  The inquisitive folks of Bree were suspicious of his hurts, of course, but accepted with some wariness that they presented no danger (or at least, no more danger than what was typical of the times), and the elf was merely feeling a bit under the weather.

      At the inn, Mr. Butterbur welcomed them in his usually hospitable manner, and recognized Legolas.

      "Master elf!" he exclaimed, "Oh my, you do look ill.  But aren't elves immune to most diseases? Ah, well.  It is not my business to ask.  But I shall have a bed turned down for you at once, before anyone else.  And you might be glad to hear, the Rangers, they are in residence.  Were you not looking for them some days back?"

      Legolas smiled, his eyes lighting up, "Yes, I was."

      "They arrived very early in the morn," said the innkeeper, shaking his head, "they keep strange hours, that bunch."

      "They are just about?" Estel asked anxiously.

      "Yes, that they are," replied Butterbur, "Come now, I shall lead you to a room."

      Legolas glanced hesitantly at the rest of the troupe, who were still waiting, crowding the common room.

      ~They will understand,~ Estel assured him, as they followed the innkeeper.

      ~It's not just that,~ Legolas told him breathlessly, ~We can ill-afford my keeping an entire room to myself.  They are hardly wealthy, and there are many of us to house for how long.~

      ~You need not worry,~ Estel said soothingly, ~Haldir is taking care of our finances… he is presently selling your intricate bow.~

      His heart stopped for a breath, before his muddled mind decided the _adan_ was kidding.

      ~Don't be mean, Estel.~

      The man in question chuckled.  ~No.  He is selling his beloved dagger.  You and he, you traveled with some money, but hardly enough to house a large group for an indefinite period of time.  It is really rather generous of him.  Although, he said he was hardly thus-- it was the practical decision, he said, because he can easily buy it back some other time.  Or if the salesman should be unreasonable and sell it to him for more than what he initially gave, Haldir says he can take it perforce.  Or it would probably be best to steal it in the night.~

      Legolas laughed, and absently put his hand over his chest again, closing his eyes as he took a deep breath.

      "Here you are," Butterbur announced, leading them to a cozy room overlooking the streets below.  He pulled at the covers, and Legolas looked at the bed with great longing and relief.

      "Thank you, sir," Legolas told him, smiling gratefully as Estel lowered him to sit upon the bed.

      "I shall have hot tea sent up," said Butterbur, excusing himself and shutting the door behind him.

      Estel helped Legolas settle into bed, and then sat down beside his arm.

      "Well," he said with a smile, "That was one of our quicker and more safe journeys, don't you think?"

      "We've definitely had worse," Legolas agreed, and the nodded out the door, "Seek your Rangers, Estel.  You know you want to."

      The man shook his head, looked down indulgently upon his friend.  "Yes.  But not yet."

      "Your brothers," said Legolas, grunting as he shifted to a more comfortable position, "If they succeeded in finding the Rangers, they would be there too.  When they heard of what happened, they fled Rivendell in a mad dash to search for you.  Save them from their misery, show them you live.  They love you so."

      Estel's brows knit, as he considered.  He loved his brothers too, and missed them dearly.  But talk of the twins inevitably led to talk of Lord Elrond, and then of his beloved Arwen.

      "It broke their hearts to think you have died," continued Legolas, "As mine did."

      "And yet," Estel struggled to say, stumbling over his words, "When you found me, you eventually agreed to leave."

      "You asked me to," Legolas pointed out, "But mostly it was because you seemed happy where you were."

      "Is that not the way things ought to be then?" Estel asked, "To leave people if they are happy without you."

      "Rivendell was hardly happy without you, Estel," said Legolas, "_Arwen_, was hardly happy without you."

      "Things would be better for her without me," Estel said, gritting his teeth, his hands drifting absently to his temple again.

      "_Mellon_," said Legolas playfully, "_Your_ life would be much better off without _me_.  Simpler.  More peaceful.  But you happen to like having me around.  So I get to stay.  The same could be said of you and Arwen.  I will not mince words.  Yes, her life would be better off without you.  But she gets to choose whether she wants you or not, and you will let her, because you love her."

      Estel looked at him helplessly, with a ghost of a grin upon his lonely face.  "Well.  You must be fair, though.  _My _life would be much easier without her too.  But… but far less graced."

      "Well it seems you have your answers then," Legolas said approvingly, though the conversation and the day's travels were quickly wearing him out, and he sank deeper against his bed.

      Estel read his body language, smiled at him wistfully.  ~Rest well, my friend.  I will be by shortly.~

      Legolas grinned back up at him sleepily, eyes drifting, and was asleep even before Estel shut the door.

* * *

      By the time Estel returned to the inn's common room, the orphan-house crowd has dispersed into their respective rooms for an imposed afternoon nap time.  Left there was Sari and Haldir, who were speaking with two cloaked elves, who were hardly strangers to Estel.

      The identical faces of Lord Elrond's twins looked up at the new arrival, and their eyes lit up.  They held their ground, though looked as if they were poised to spring forward, and Estel could barely keep his own feet from running madly towards them.   

      His fears over facing his Rivendell family again were quickly dashed by the very first moment of the very fist sight of them.  Legolas was right.  He was dearly loved by them.  There was nothing to fear.  There was nothing to escape.  His heart swelled, and though he tried to restrain himself, his grin was ear to ear.

      ~The pair of you look much… hardier,~ Estel commented good-naturedly, taking in the appearance of his adoptive brothers in their dusted, rustic clothes.  A bit of awhile spent traveling with the Rangers of the North lent even the most illustrious of elves a harder edge.

      ~I thought you might like it,~ said Elrohir, and seemed to want to say something else, before deciding on ridding himself completely of custom and cool, and stepped forward and embraced Estel tightly.

      ~You have more lives than an elf,~ Elladan laughed, patting the shoulders of his pair of brothers.

      Elrohir pulled away from Estel, and stepped back as Elladan gripped the _adan's_ face in his hands and studied his face carefully.  His gaze lingered by the healing gash on his temple.

      ~We've been told about what happened,~ Elladan murmured, ~Are you certain you are well?~

      ~Yes, absolutely,~ replied Estel enthusiastically, ~I've never been better.~

      ~Headaches?~ Elladan persisted.

      ~Some,~ Estel admitted, ~It comes and goes.~

      ~That is to be expected,~ Elrohir commented, ~But you look well.  Especially for one who is supposed to be dead.~

      ~We heard the prince has once again accomplished what he always sets out to do,~ Elladan said wryly, glancing at Sari and haldir, who were apparently the sources of all the news.

      ~If you mean getting himself in trouble,~ said Estel, ~I'm afraid this new one can be more attributed to me.~

      ~Is he well?~ inquired Elrohir.

      ~He is resting upstairs,~ replied Estel, ~I've looked him over, but my mind would be more at ease if you did as well.~

      ~Of course,~ said Elladan, ~Now what is this I hear about a key of _mithril_?~

      ~I know far less about it than Haldir, I fear,~ said Estel, ~Suffice it to say that we rescued a young boy nights ago, who was being pursued by a band of orcs desiring a key that he has.  We fled an orphan house at the outskirts of Bree with all of the members of its household to seek shelter here, for the orc-searching is taking them too near to the children.~

      Elrohir rubbed his chin thoughtfully, ~It is precisely this greater orc-activity that led the Rangers to their duties back here, from searching for you.  I suppose you, _Mr._ Chieftain, would want it all taken care of?~

      Estel looked at him wryly, ~Of course.~

      ~Well,~ breathed Elladan, ~The Rangers are yours to command, little brother.~

      ~Does no one know of where this key actually leads?~ Haldir asked.

      Elrohir shook his head, shrugged.  ~It seems the orcs have a lock and no key.  And we have a key without a lock.~

      ~The boy does not speak?~ Elladan asked.

      ~I do not think he is a mute,~ said Sari, ~But it seems more of a consequence of the loss of his heart, after his parents died.~

      ~It would be infinitely better if we knew what we were dealing with,~ said Elladan, ~But what can one do, really.~

      ~The sooner this is dealt with,~ said Elrohir to Estel, ~The sooner the children can return to their home.~

      ~I know,~ said Estel, ~I wish to speak to the Rangers.  This shall end in a few days, the Valar willing.~

* * *

      And so the orc hunt began early in the day, with the Rangers and their Chieftain leaving Bree to rid the countryside of the ominous threat, right after Estel, Elrohir and Elladan bid a very frustrated Legolas goodbye and wished him well in his recuperation.

      Legolas, of course, was also helplessly dismayed by the entire situation.  He was sitting up in bed with Haldir, who was polishing his reclaimed dagger—_how in the world did he manage to get it back to quickly?!_—beside him, right after.

      ~Does the stupid _adan_ not know that he isn't entirely well yet?~ he muttered, looking out the window anxiously, as if the Rangers would return at any moment.

      ~I will calm down if I were you,~ Haldir murmured, surveying his blade, ~He knows what he is doing.~

      ~I hope so!~ retorted Legolas, ~The fool knows no restraint! Every time he leaves, I find I fear for his safety!~

      ~Try not to drop a lung, _mellon_,~ Haldir told him dryly.

      Legolas laughed, for the mental picture was curiously funny. 

      ~Calm down,~ said Haldir, ~If you keep on this way, you'll get hurt.~

      ~I'm stronger than you think,~ smirked Legolas.

      ~No,~ said Haldir nonchalantly, ~I meant if you do not cease from annoying me, I will poke you with this.~ 

      ~I can't believe he left me with you,~ sighed Legolas melodramatically after a moment, ~You are the King of all that is ill of bedside manners.~

      Haldir just chuckled at him.  

      Legolas glanced at the dagger, ~I thought you sold it.~

      ~I borrowed money from Elrohir and Elladan,~ replied Haldir coolly, ~Right after I told them Estel was alive.  Easiest gold and silver I ever made.~

      ~I'm sure it was,~ Legolas scolded him, ~You really shouldn't be very proud of yourself for that.~

      Haldir shrugged, sheathed his dagger.

      ~Am I intruding on your rest?~ he inquired, ~I'm desperately avoiding Cecilia and the others.  I believe they owe Bree a play and are short of a leading man.  They are practicing in the common room.~

      Legolas grinned at him mischievously, ~What would you do if I sent you away?~

      ~You probably wouldn't,~ Haldir shrugged, ~You would be dreadfully bored without me, not to mention you also happen to be enthralled by my presence here.~

      ~The gall!~

      A knock upon the door disturbed the exchange.

      "This is Mr. Butterbur, masters," came the muffled voice.

      "Come in," Haldir declared.

      The innkeeper stepped into the room, flanked by two elves who were much older than even Legolas or Haldir, making both younger elves perk up in curiosity and respect.  Haldir rose to his feet, and Legolas pushed at the sheets to try and sit up straighter.

      "Lie back down," one of the new arrivals said, "We easily see your hurts.  There is no need for such formality."

      "The gatekeeper inquired as to their intentions in passing through Bree," Mr. Butterbur explained, "They said they come in good will, and are elves of Rivendell, on an expedition across Middle-Earth seeking poisons and cures and healing techniques of all sorts.  They were told an elf was ill here, and they begged to see you."

      "I see," smiled Legolas, "Thank you."

      Mr. Butterbur lingered awhile, curious, and eventually left for it was more than obvious that his presence was not particularly welcome.  When the door closed behind him, the two elves stepped forward.

      ~You need not see to me,~ Legolas told them quickly, ~I am sure you have more important things to do.  I am well now.~

      The two looked at him skeptically, reminding him of Lord Elrond.  They must have been age-mates.  And, being of Rivendell as well, they must be well-acquainted also.  Apparently, they also shared the same will, and ignored his wishes and completely surrounded him.

      Wordlessly, but undoubtedly miserably, he endured their poking and prodding, while Haldir, unwilling to subject himself to the same humiliating caring, stood apart from the circle of elven healers and discreetly pretended to be a fly on the wall.

      Legolas buttoned himself up consciously and hurriedly when the healers concluded their scrutiny.

      ~You were right,~ said one of them, ~It is healing well.~

      Legolas smiled at them sourly.  Oh to be so invaded only to be told what he already knew!

      ~It just requires rest,~ said the other.

      ~Thank you,~ Legolas told them brusquely.

      ~When we heard there was an ill elf in Bree,~ said the first, ~We could not contain ourselves.  An elf! Ill! We had to discover this affliction right away.  It is just a wound after all.  I thought our expedition would yield more for Lord Elrond and his House of Healing.~

      ~I'm sorry to disappoint you,~ Legolas said, chuckling with helpless surprise at the academic frigidity.  

      ~Excuse my companion,~ said the first elf who spoke, ~I am Sayuno, and this is Jano.  The innkeeper was right.  We are part of an expedition of sorts.  And we've been long gone from Imladris.  A pair of years, at least.  We were on our way back to our home, this was our last resting stop along the way.  Bree is always an interesting place.  Who might you be?~

      ~I am Legolas, of Mirkwood,~ he replied, motioning for Haldir, ~And this is Haldir, of Lothlorien.~

      ~Legolas of Mirkwood,~ murmured Jano, ~A! I know you! Last I heard, you were accused of murder and killed!~

      ~He's long been exonerated,~ Haldir piped in, beating Legolas to the punch, leaving the Mirkwood elf to smile at him in thanks.

      ~I see,~ said Sayuno, ~Interesting Bree indeed.  Why, one may even find the dead and buried Prince of Mirkwood here.~

      ~When do you leave for Imladris?~ asked Legolas.

      ~In the morn,~ Sayuno replied, ~Unless you feel you may need us here?~

      ~I have something else in mind,~ murmured Legolas, ~Would you happen to have paper and ink with you? I wish to send Lord Elrond _and_ Lady Arwen a message.~

      Haldir raised an eyebrow at him.  He had an inkling of precisely what the Prince of Mirkwood had in mind.  And oh, Estel is going to find out in a most harsh way that Legolas, left to his own devices, could still get into a great deal of trouble with just a pen and a paper, bed-ridden in a quiet room.

      Legolas hurriedly composed a letter, sealed it, and gratefully handed it over to the elven healers, who left soon afterwards.  

      ~You look mightily pleased with yourself,~ Haldir commented.

      ~That I am,~ grinned Legolas.

      ~You really shouldn't be stirring the waters, _mellon_,~ said Haldir, ~As I said before, you have a rather bad habit of deciding for people.~

      ~I'm not deciding for them,~ clarified Legolas, ~I'm giving them a chance to decide for themselves.  And besides, nothing will ever happen to them unless someone lit a fire beneath their tails.  Trust me.  Just you wait and see.~

* * *

      The days went by achingly slowly, especially without Estel's company and Legolas often in bed.  How profoundly frustrating it was, for the mind and will to be so wildly searching for escape in a body entrapped by its weaknesses!

      On one such day, he decided he _will_ be on his feet, and gritting his teeth in determination, he slowly rose upon quaking legs and braced himself upon bed posts and walls and tables, walking around his room.

      He shook, and panted, feeling terribly weak, but the return of some of his strength was a welcome relief.  Could he take the excursion further than his room, he wondered, or was he tempting fate? Already his wound was pounding and smarting, eager for his attention.  But Legolas stubbornly decided it should have had enough by now!

      Defiantly, he headed for the door, and carefully walked down the halls.  It was a warm, sunny late afternoon.  Shafts of orange sunlight danced into the old inn from here and there, windows, holes and gashes along the walls, open doors… 

      He stopped and leaned against the frame of one, finding Haldir sitting on the ground with his face nonchalant as he read a book, surrounded by a pack of young girls clamoring to braid his flowing, golden hair.

      Haldir looked up to face Legolas' smirking.

      ~I would take a rock and eat it before I say anything clever if I were you,~ Haldir warned him, ~Or perhaps I'd release them to you, and we'll see what becomes of _your_ pretty head.~

      ~I wasn't going to say anything,~ Legolas laughed.

      Haldir looked at him skeptically, changed the subject altogether, ~You should not be up.~

      ~I should not be a lot of things,~ Legolas winked at him, ~But then again, here I am.  It makes no difference.~

      The conversation was cut off by the hurried arrival of Teresa, who appeared by the door and nearly collided with Legolas.

      "I'm sorry!" she said quickly, "I thought perhaps you would want to know.  A group of elves has just arrived at the gates! Why, Bree has never seen so many of them— perhaps I should say you—out in force here.  It's quite the sight! Why, there is this one elven lady amongst them who took my breath away!"

      Legolas looked at Haldir knowingly.  "What did I tell you.  The Evenstar has arrived."

      "The what?" Teresa asked.

      "Sari's betrothed," Haldir said suddenly, making both Teresa and Legolas start and stare at him.

      "Oh," Teresa said after a moment of strange, taut silence, "Well he couldn't have chosen anyone less, could he?"

      Legolas was looking at Haldir pointedly, obviously dismayed.

      "I'll go tell Cecilia," Teresa said, trying to feign the excitement she had upon entering the room, and miserably failing, "She would want to know this as well."

      She vanished in a rustle of skirts, and Legolas turned to Haldir with an eyebrow raised.

      ~That was unnecessary,~ Legolas told him flatly.

      ~It was inspired by you,~ Haldir said, eyes twinkling, ~Nothing will happen to them unless someone lit a fire beneath their tails, eh?~

      Legolas frowned.  The blasted Lothlorien elf was too clever, too fast.

* * *

      The quest here began with a carefully worded letter, and it seemed it would end with one too, though the latter was thankfully of far gladder tidings.  

      Lord Elrond and his party of elven soldiers traveled towards the gates of Bree in silence, and as he neared the city, he thought back to the letter that had sent him flying from Rivendell and traveling here without delay, or rest, _or possibly even without much thought…_

      _Dearest Lord Elrond_, it began, and his heart pounded in a father's great aching fear of the grave loss or glorious restoration the next few words will reveal.  Legolas' writing seemed swift, and light, and the Lord of Imladris could almost hear the Mirkwood elf's melodious voice saying, _I suppose the first thing I should say is that I found Estel and that he is well._

      His eyes had watered then, with joy and relief.  He sent his thanks in thought up to the Valar, and to the curious younger elf-prince who was his kindred in their love for his son.

      _Or better yet_, Lord Elrond imagined hearing that insufferably wry and clever tone_, I think, as always, that it was he who found me, as he found Sari some weeks before.  Estel suffers from the after-effects of a severe head wound, but is recuperating in his usual resilient fashion.  As a matter of fact, even as I write this, he is away once again to seek orcs and greatness with his faithful Rangers, your twin sons amongst them (and looking rather rugged and hardy—you will now have three sons in need of a long bath by the time they return, instead of the usual one). _

      _Come to Bree_, Legolas wrote, _He fears facing you and Arwen again.  But your loves are great and your hearts are stout.  Our light has returned.  Our _estel_ is restored._

      Elrond glanced at his daughter, riding beside him, as anxious to see Estel as he.  His father's heart still did not know what to do with the pair of them.  But as long as one lived, and one loved, there really shouldn't be anything to fear in the world.  They are wise, and strong.  He could only trust that he raised them well enough such that they can face the hardships that guaranteed to pave their road.

      Arwen turned to face her father, feeling his eyes resting upon her.  She smiled at him tentatively.  He smiled back.  He knew she made up her mind.  Or perhaps he should have known long ago…  

      Sari's return was not so much a confusing distraction, making her choose between the two men she had ever loved.  At the onset this seemed the case, yes.  But these last few days, feeling his daughter's grief stifle the House… He knew, probably as much as she was just realizing herself, that Sari's return was not a question of who she wanted to be with, no.  It was more a question of what she was willing to pay.  Love for a mortal man, experiencing the first taste of that desperate loss… and still _wanting_ to love… 

      Arwen has made her choice.  

      Estel will discover this when he returns.  And so will Sari.

TO BE CONTINUED…


	20. Chapter 20

Author: Mirrordance

Title: Escape

Summary: Aragorn is lost during a tour with the Rangers, and Legolas later finds him in Bree, without his memories & happily relieved of all his noble burdens, making the elf hesitate to bring him back to who he truly was.

* * *

PART TWENTY

* * *

      Sari greeted them at the door of the Prancing Pony, and when he faced Arwen, it seemed that both of them knew changes have occurred, decisions have been made.  She embraced him and kissed his cheek.  It was no less warm and loving as it was all those times that he remembered receiving it, but it was… different.  Not distant, not cold, just… _different_.  Teresa, who was at a corner in the common room and could not have known about all that went on wordlessly between the two old lovers, turned her face away. 

      The two elves looked at each other curiously, strange smiles curving their lips and lighting their eyes.  They have always understood each other. 

      ~You seem settled,~ she told him, ~I'm glad.~

      He squeezed her arm reassuringly, and greeted her father.  ~Lord Elrond, it is good to see you.~

      ~You look well, Sari,~ Elrond smiled at him, glancing around, ~It has been awhile… Where is Estel? Where are my sons?~

      ~They have been gone for days,~ replied Sari, ~Taking care of an orc threat.  They should be by in a day or two.~

      ~Is he all right?~ Lord Elrond asked, after a moment of thought.

      ~Yes,~ Sari answered, smiling, ~He is very well.  Might I inquire… how did you know we were here?~

      A shuffle of movement caught their eye, and a bedraggled-looking Legolas, with Haldir of Lothlorien holding onto his arm supportively, appeared.

      ~I suppose I should have known,~ said Sari wryly, stepping aside as Elrond pushed forward to carefully survey the apparently ailing elf's condition with his prying eyes.

      ~I'm well, my lord,~ Legolas assured him, ~Your healers can vouch for it.~

      ~It would not hurt to have another look, later,~ Elrond murmured, studying his face, ~And so we have all arrived here by your machinations.~

      Legolas' brow quirked, ~And so you have, my lord.~

      ~Where is Estel?~ asked Arwen.

      ~He should be by any day now,~ Legolas replied, ~In the meantime, enjoy Bree.  There will be a play tonight! And Sari will be performing.~

      Arwen looked at Sari with raised brows, ~Truly?~

      ~It was supposed to be Estel,~ said Sari shyly, ~But he fled with his Rangers, and the play was necessary to uphold the idea that we came by Bree not to bring danger but--~

      ~Or simply perhaps because he just enjoys it,~ Haldir interjected, cutting him off, ~_I_ am the prop master.~

      ~Or the carrot cutter,~ Legolas laughed.

      Arwen smiled at them uncertainly, not quite understanding.

      "Teresa," Sari called to the young woman, who was pretending not to watch them, "Come here.  You should meet a few friends of ours."

      She bit her lip, hesitating, before she stepped forward and stood amidst their circle.  More than ever, she felt terribly plain and unsightly.  

      "Teresa," said Sari, his eyes resting gently and proudly upon her face, "This is Lord Elrond and Lady Arwen of Rivendell."  In her awkwardness, she missed the look of his love, just as she missed the great courtesy and honor he extended her by presenting the nobles of Imladris to her, rather than the other way around.

      But it was a nuance not lost to Arwen, who knew from the first sight of her old betrothed that he was changed, satisfied, at peace… and not necessarily with her, who had just arrived.  His arrested gaze upon the admittedly plain mortal woman was answer enough, and Arwen smiled at Teresa indulgently, taking her hands like a sister.

      "It is _very good_ to meet you," the beautiful elf said earnestly, and glanced up at a red-faced but beaming Sari with knowing.

      "You are too kind," Teresa said, shyly taking her hands away.

      "You are being remarkably quiet," Sari teased her.

      "It's just that," she hesitated, "It's just that I'm quite… um… unprepared… for such… uh… noble acquaintances.  I'm rather… a bit of a mess actually.  I wish you had said your betrothed was coming.  I'd have been more presentable."

      Arwen's brows raised, looking at Sari expectantly.  

      ~I told her,~ Haldir said, his eyes twinkling.

      ~Then why aren't you running away already?~ muttered Sari.

      "I'm tired," Legolas lied, though he looked pale and sickly enough to be believed.  

      "I'll help you up," Haldir said wryly, seeing through his deception.

      "Excuse us, Teresa," Lord Elrond said to the girl, who was more than a little bit confused, "We shall see to the Prince of Mirkwood's hurts."

      Haldir, Legolas, Arwen and Elrond left the pair to express that which they both knew in their hearts to be true all along.

* * *

      The Rangers returned early in the night, to very little of Bree's scrutiny.  It was suspicious to be sure, for the city was curiously silent, and there were no people about.  

      Estel settled his horse in the stables, and frowned at the strange quiet of the oft-lively town.  He headed for the Prancing Pony with Elladan and Elrohir in tow, and found the common room empty, even of its Innkeeper.

      ~It's as if we strayed into a different place,~ Elladan murmured.

      Worriedly, the three brothers stalked up to the rooms of the children, found them glaringly empty.  They headed towards Legolas', and found with great relief, the elf sitting next to the window, ensconced in blankets and leaning against the panes.

      Legolas looked up at them and smiled.  ~Welcome back.~

      ~Where's everyone?~ Estel asked, stepping into the room.

      ~All of Bree is watching the play,~ Legolas replied, ~Except for me.  I've been miserably confined here by… _higher powers_.~

      ~You never let it stop you before,~ Elladan commented, ~You must be feeling really ill then.~

      ~I'm perfectly well,~ insisted Legolas, ~But I'm not fool enough to be walking around in crowds yet.  Have you dispelled the orc threat?~

      ~For now,~ replied Elrohir, sitting on the bed and stretching his arms over his head, ~Oh, _mellon_, you will not believe where that key leads.~

      Legolas' brows raised in inquiry.

      ~A treasure trove,~ said Elladan, ~No wonder the orcs desired it so badly.  It seems it is the _mithril_ key to a just-as-indestructible _mithril_ lock, guarding over what seems to be a cave of very old plunder.  Perhaps dating back centuries, we cannot know until we've opened it ourselves.  The orcs were indeed scouring the countryside looking for those corpses, and the boy thereafter.  We killed a lot of them scattered here and there, but most of them we killed amidst their preoccupation trying to open the lock perforce.~

      ~Treasure,~ said Legolas, ~Are you going to tell the boy at all?~

      ~Perhaps when he is older,~ said Estel, ~Such things are better left little-known.  Greed is an enemy that is more cunning than the orc.  In the meantime, Cecilia holds in her hands all the money she could ever possibly need to care for more orphans, especially in days as dark as these, when there will always be more and more she would have to look after.~

      Legolas nodded.  ~Well.  That settles that.~

      Estel looked around the room, thinking.  ~Where's Haldir? They left you absolutely all alone?~ his lips quirked, ~That was unkind of them.  Not to mention the fact that they have replaced _me_ in the play.~

      ~They didn't _quite_ leave me all alone,~ Legolas said.

      Estel looked at him suspiciously for a moment, and soon discovered exactly what he meant.  Lord Elrond appeared by the door, bearing a tray of tea.

      Estel turned and faced his father, unsure.  But Lord Elrond was looking at him in wonder.

      ~In case you missed it, _ada_,~ laughed Elrohir, taking the tray from his father's slack hands, ~Your _other_ sons are here too.~

      Elrond glanced at him, smiled wryly, before stepping purposefully towards Estel, embracing him tightly.  The _adan_ returned it with such hungry affection.

      ~I'm sorry Estel,~ Elrond said softly, ~I wish I did not let you walk away.  Never do that again.~

      ~I'm sorry too,~ said Estel fervently, ~I only ever wished I could make you happy.  But I cannot do as your heart desires for I _cannot_ give up my own heart, much as I wish to yield for you. To yield for her.  _If one can simply cease to love when it guarantees hardship, then we'd both have stopped years ago_.~

      ~I know, I know this now,~ Elrond said, pulling away from Estel and staring at his face, touching the wound on his forehead, ~Let us allow things to unfold as they will.  I cannot pretend that I would rather not have things in some other way.  But you are with me, now.  That is what matters most.~

      He embraced Estel again, ~You are with _us_ now.~

      Estel noted his tone, and said achingly, knowing without a doubt, ~She is here.~

      Elrond stepped back from his son.  Estel smiled at him, and smiled at the three other elves in the room, who were watching father and son discreetly, trying to pretend they were not there.

      ~Watching the play,~ Legolas told him wryly, knowing just to whom he was headed.

      Estel _walked away_.

      _Elrond let him_.

      The circumstances were all but the same as with the last time they had this conversation and thereafter parted.  But it felt right, this time.

* * *

      Sari held Teresa in his arms as she died, just as the awed crowds of Bree breathlessly beheld the last scene of Cecilia's play.

      "I'm sorry," he told her fervently, as tears sprang from his eyes and he desperately pulled her close.

      "One can only love as the heart allows it," she told him, her voice soft and waning, but distinctly loud amidst the arrested town's taut silence, "I can no more fault you for your love as you can me for mine."

      "I wish things were different," he said, bitterly.

      "The cards have been dealt," she said, touching his face, "We are only players.  Now the game is up and done with.  But if only in death could I ever know for a certainty that I've at last won your heart, then it is victory, rather than defeat."

      His grip tightened about her body, willing her to stay, or willing to go with her.  Either way, it was a grip that absolutely refused to suffer parting.  

      Sari's lips plunged into hers, taking in the last of her breath as life left her body.

      Estel watched, with some measure of amusement, and noted that _That was not part of the script that _I_ read_.

      The play ended with a spine-tingling moment of stretched-taut silence, followed by Bree's thunderous applause.  The players made their bows.  Sari's hand never left Teresa's, and her face glowed with life and joy.

* * *

      He found her amidst the crowds, the dark of her cloak doing little to dim the stunning beauty of her face and the light of her eyes, sparkling greater than even any star that ever was.

      The crowds dispersed around them, returning to their own businesses with excited talk of what they had just seen.  The Bree-folk Company of Actors will have gold and silver to swim in after tonight.  And for all the lovers who witnessed it, they took home gold and silver of a different sort, the kind that the bittersweet heart carried in the very deepest of its parts.

      He stopped a step away from her, just watching her face, as she devoured his with her hungry, loving eyes.  Words seemed to elude them.  So great was the intensity of their feeling that it could not be justly encased by sounds and letters of any language, save for the look in their eyes.  The world dimmed and blurred around them.  She took his breath away.  And he was all of her immortality in one instant.  

      It was love, it was madness, it was hunger and desire, all at once perfect sense and ultimate satisfaction. It was distinctly _them_ and _theirs_, and at last did they stand before each other to know, precisely what it all meant.

      She took his hands in hers and kissed his palms.  He enclosed his fingers upon the memory of her lips reverently, and her own digits enclosed about his own.  

      ~Arwen,~ he told her, falling to a knee before her, ~I have not much to give, but all that I have, I do lay upon your feet.~

      _All of himself_, he meant, _All that he was, is, and ever will be.  His existence belonged to her.  His deeds, his name, his hands, his body, his past and his future.  _

This was the only real escape and freedom from all the evil that ravaged the world.  The strength of his heart, the power of his love.  To be enslaved by this passion was all the escape he would ever need, to press him forward towards all the things he had to do and be.

      She smiled at him impishly, and in a most un-elvish, playful way, she pulled him roughly to his feet and encased him in her arms.

      All was well.

THE END

February 25, 2004

SOME IMPORTANT NOTES:

On "Escape" as the second of a trilogy.  I'm an obsessive compulsive, so you can bet that if I wrote a sequel, it will almost surely have a third story to end it.  When I wrote "Escape"'s predecessor "Exile," I wasn't sure if I would write the entire trilogy.  Now I can guarantee you the timeline will continue and ultimately end with the third story, "Return," though it is only a question of when it will be released.  I've started it already though, so maybe I'll post part one in a couple of weeks.

"Return" Teaser.   Post-LOTR. Legolas always felt at odds with his home kingdom. Though it's King by birthright, he fled it, building a prosperous colony in Ithilien. Just when all seems well at last, great dangers in Mirkwood call for the return of _THIS_ King home.  

On the Trilogy Theme.  I suppose you noticed the titles all have to do with places.  "Exile" began with Legolas as being an outcast from his kingdom, and indirectly, Estel as an exile from his heritage.  Then "Escape" shows a more willful desire to leave, rather than be sent away.  This was a theme more applicable to Estel, though this time, indirectly to Legolas too (when he left Estel).  If you look at it in a certain light, Tolkien's "The Lord of the Rings" is the 'third part' of the series, where Estel reclaims what was his.  "Return" is Legolas' story of how he reclaims his own kingdom.

On Haldir.  I used to be hesitant about putting him in my fics, because not all that much is known of him.  But along my time as a LOTR ffic writer, I felt that I understood more of how he is generally perceived, and decided on the gamble.  I made him out to be spectacularly, distinctly aloof, but also kind, clever, and hesitantly affectionate.  I hope it's not such an alien, unrecognizable depiction because I took great care in keeping him level but also developed further.  He was actually initially not a part of "Escape" but the muses changed their minds and put him in.  Which now gives me a problem: the movie kills him off, but now I think I've grown attached to the character and would want to keep him in for "Return" as well.  I suppose I can always pretend (as much of our wonderful Haldir fans do) he did not die and put him in the story anyways.  But I've yet to decide on it.

On Sari.  This character originally began as a villain, if you can believe it.  The original "Escape" was not even a part of "Exile."  But as I said, the muses changed their minds.  The first Sari was supposed to be Legolas' best friend, long-lost and feared dead.  He returns after years of capture by savage men, to find his betrothed Arwen in love with an _adan_.  So the conflict that originally belonged to Legolas was not whether or not he should leave Estel to his happiness, but with whom he would side, especially when Sari becomes murderous.  I'm glad the fic took on a softer tone though, and I hope this OC fit in well.  I also know people can get impatient with OC-scenes, so I kept it minimal and concise.  His talk with Teresa, for instance, was axed out completely, and I only hope it was conveyed clearly in the end that it must have gone well.

On Legolas.  As those who have read my other fics clearly know, my favorite character.  As usual, a mix of the more serious movie version and the more playful book version.  Those who have read my other fics would also know that I make a constant issue of his ultimate loneliness, because of his immortality and ironically mortal attachments.  "Escape" is in keeping with this, particularly the first part, in his reflections of Estel's impending death—a concern even years and years before the fact.  This is his first taste of that pain, but will not be his last.  But it will also show his strength to endure thereafter.  And his ability to forge other relationships, such as with Haldir (which was also experimental for me).

On Estel.  I love depicting his and Legolas' friendship.  The camaraderie is distinct, and one that most fic authors and readers enjoy.  I've always depicted him as the strong, un-conflicted character between the two, so I felt it was about time I tossed in some hesitations here and there.  Estel is like the quintessential hero; noble, brave, a natural leader.  "Escape" chronicles a curveball tossed the King's way.  His great calling was always the Evenstar, and now he finds a rival for her heart, suddenly magnifying all the questions and insecurities of that relationship; mortality, immortality, the endurance of love.

On Arwen.  I'm not as astute a writer of her as a lot of authors are, but I attempted to be true to how she is generally perceived.  Torn between duty and love, who she is and who she desires.  As was dissected by Sari (I think in part eight) and Elrond (in part nineteen), the obvious conflict (whom to choose between Sari and Estel) is not the real issue at all.  It's more a question of her duties against her desires, and how much she is willing to face, and how much she is willing to give for her love.

On Elrond.  The helpless, disapproving father, of course, is torn because he loves both Arwen and Estel and wishes for them to be happy.  I always depicted the Lord of Imladris as a really formidable kind of character.  Wise, comfortable with his life and sure of his decisions.  But this entire relationship was a curveball for him as well.  He is not happy, naturally.  But he could hardly hold them back.  I think all real heroes need a weakness, or--as I've been using as an analogy-- a curveball, for us to see who they really are by how they best the situation or by what kind of a person they inevitably emerge as.  Here, he is conflicted because the happiness he wishes for his children can both be attained and threatened by their being together.  A kind of lose-lose situation, if you will, that pains him.  He isn't quite sure what to do with them, in short.  I hope this indecision and fear is fairly represented.

On the Bree-folk Company of Actors.  I did warn you guys about a quirky circumstance, didn't I? And so Estel… the actor.  With elven carrot ears.  This was a big gamble for me too… I thought it would take me too close to the humor genre (which I'm not clever enough to write :)), or confuse the kind of genre I was aiming for (which is actually more of a drama, with lighter moments).  But the group being a company of actors was the vehicle for a lot of things: first, it was a throwback to Legolas saying to Estel in the first scenes: "I wish you're an elf."  It was also a vehicle for Estel to begin to remember Arwen, and for Sari and Teresa to get together.

On the Style.  As always, I like to think that I do not put in events and parts that ultimately will have no use in the story.  The semi-mute boy, for instance, may have initially seemed as just an episode, but the key and the orcs' preoccupation with it was actually the vehicle that restored Estel to himself (after Legolas' injury).  This is also the case for the quiet Damien, who ultimately gives Estel back his sword.  This is also the case for Teresa, who was introduced and inevitably ended up with Sari.  What was that quote? If there's a gun in the first scene, it will go off in the third? I don't know, I forget.  I try to abide by it.

      Also in keeping with the planned trilogy, it's the second of a style whose range is gradually expanding outward.  The battle with "Exile" was with Legolas and himself.  "Escape" moves beyond the self towards battles with external but nearby objects— other people, our own duties, our friends.  After these victories, "Return" will be a battle against real evil with monumental consequences that affects the fate of the world.

      "Escape" is also my attempt towards returning to the style I adapted for my favorite piece, "Estel."  I wanted it to feel intimate, and distinctly away from big battles ion the rest of the world—indeed an escape.  It is a smaller world, a slower world.  I know it tended to lag, but I hope it wasn't too bad.  I really wanted it to feel like a distant, quiet setting.  It shares similar elements with "Estel," like a range of original characters, even the warm environment of a small country house.

To my reviewers.  As always, you guys, you are wonderful.  As I said before, when I began this fic I thought it would take me forever to finish it.  But your encouraging reviews press me forward.  I know as long as we help each other, I'll never get lost :) As always, I do hope that the quick posts did not make the quality suffer because I hate disappointing, and I always fervently try not to waste your valuable time.  I hope you found it okay, and will look out for "Return" as well :) I also apologize for not being able to reply right after my posts.  I usually acknowledge at the very end, as you may have noticed.  There's just a billion things to do beyond writing stories, and I figured you might be more pleased if I took the little time I had to continue the fic and post within reasonable time instead.  But I hope none of you take this delay to mean the reviews mean any less, because let me tell you, it is just pure encouragement and motivation when I get them :) As always, c&c's are forever welcome.  I've put in so much characters and questions in this fic that I'm wondering if I confused you all (because I've confused myself, haha).  Anyway, if things are less than satisfactory, editing and revising are always options, so fear not to say (in a polite way, of course, haha), if you find anything particularly strongly disagreeable, and if I find the inclination and the time, I will try to remedy the situation :)

THANKS and REPLIES.  

Tmelange: as for Estel not wanting to remember rather than the typical anxiety caused by amnesia, I made it out such that he plunged directly into this other life, as if subconsciously he was trying to evade something that would hurt him, like repressing some pain from the past.  I'm not a psych major, but at least I hope the reason is plausible :)

Dragonfly: one of my most suspicious readers, ;)… I hope you like Cecilia better now though! :)

Tychen: I'm glad you like my depuction of Haldir… I tried to be fair to the character, to develop it but not to stray, and I hope that work comes out

Angel of Imladris: no, I'm sorry, I've not come across that book at all.  And I thought I had a weird, one of a kind kind of mind, haha :) I'll give it a look

Wadeva: sorry to anser your ch. 7 and ch 10 questions just now!!! Eeps, I do have bad habits… yes, Estel is telling the truth about not remembering.  I suppose I was just thinking of how the will plays a part in it—about wanting to escape.  But he honestly forgot.  And the wound on Legolas' back was the same wound caused by his brother in Exile, and was explained to Haldir in Ch. 14

Grumpy: I'm glad you like Biggles; I work really hard to keep my OC's from being too invasive and to 'fit in' with Tolkien's world

Jenzy: oh my… I've never had anyone tell me such wonderful words… thank you for your kind words.  And I did rush with the installments :)

Port: haha, that is indeed 'the return of the king!' and yes, I'm afraid you must always hang from cliffs… but I do update soon, in all fairness, so as not to keep you hanging for too long ;)

Stoneage Woman: as sharp as ever.  Thank you for always taking the time, and what improvements you may have seen were definitely affected by your always helpful c&c's :)

Massive thanks to the ever-encouraging: Tmelange, Dragonfly, Tychen, Grumpy, Port, KitCloudkicker, HalandLeg4ever, Kandice, Elessar*Lover, the wonderful Platy, the luvable lulu bell, Frisha, pua lahi lahi, Silvertongue, Ainu Laire, Silvertoekee, Justeenh, Kanaylle, Konzen, Nerfenherder, Shinigami061, Balrogs Breath, Sodalite, Isadora, Joshua Nenya, Koriaena, Trustingfriendship, Elvendancer, Po-pla, Astievia, Musicstarlover, Wheee!!!, Joee1, Tammy, Jinnder, EnglishMystic, MJ Azilem, dd9736, fireball, Jenzy, Angel of Imladris, Wadeva, Stoneage Woman and Alice7. 

MASSIVE THANKS to all who reviewed, and all those who took the time to read my little offering.  I hope you found it not-so-bad! 'til next time!!!


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